Alliance of Heroes
by JediMara77
Summary: The Rebel Alliance struggles to maintain its forward momentum in its quest to bring freedom to the galaxy, and even the most loyal Imperials face a crisis of conscience after the destruction of Alderaan. Post-ANH AU. L/M, H/L. Part 1 of a trilogy.
1. Prologue

**Title:** Alliance of Heroes  
><strong>Author:<strong> JediMara77  
><strong>Timeframe:<strong> 0 BBY - 1 ABY  
><strong>Characters:<strong> L/M, H/L, Darth Vader, Emperor Palpatine, Wedge Antilles, Tycho Celchu  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Drama, Action, Romance  
><strong>Summary:<strong> After the Battle of Yavin, the Rebel Alliance struggles to maintain its forward momentum in its quest to bring freedom to the galaxy. Meanwhile, even the most loyal Imperials face a crisis of conscience after the destruction of Alderaan. When old allegiances are forced to be set aside, can new alliances be forged?  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> This is **Part One **of a trilogy.

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><p>.<p>

**Dramatis Personae:**

With the Rebel Alliance:  
>Admiral Ackbar - Director of Fleet Command<br>C-3PO - protocol droid  
>Chewbacca - co-pilot, <em>Millennium Falcon<em>  
>Commander Arhul Narra - Renegade Leader<br>Commander Luke Skywalker - Rogue Leader  
>Flight Officer Dack Ralter - Rogue Six<br>General Airen Cracken - Director of Intelligence  
>General Carlist Rieekan - High Councilor<br>General Jan Dodonna - Minister of War  
>Han Solo - captain, <em>Millennium Falcon<em>  
>Lieutenant Hobbie Klivian - Rogue Four<br>Lieutenant Wedge Antilles - Rogue Three  
>Lieutenant Wes Janson - Rogue Five<br>Lieutenant Zev Senesca - Rogue Two  
>Mon Mothma - Commander in Chief<br>Princess Leia Organa - High Councilor  
>R2-D2 - astromech droid<br>Red - astromech droid

With the Empire:  
>Admiral Kendal Ozzel - Death Squadron commander<br>Captain Firmus Piett - captain, _Executor_  
>Darth Vader - Dark Lord of the Sith<br>General Maximilian Veers - Death Squadron ground forces commander  
>Mara Jade - Emperor's Hand<br>Palpatine - Emperor  
>Tycho Celchu - TIE fighter pilot<p>

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><p>.<p>

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_**They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Naturally they became heroes. - Leia Organa of Alderaan, Senator**_

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><p><span>PROLOGUE<span>

The corridors of the Death Star were a brilliant white, a stark contrast with the dark uniforms of the officers escorting her down the hallway. The atmosphere was bright and sterile, like a medic's office, but Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan knew that it was all part of the ruse to conceal the true, insidious nature of the Empire's new battle station.

Rumors about the Death Star had been flying among the Rebel factions for years. Even though the battle station had never been acknowledged by the Empire, and would remain a secret until it was fully operational, the leaders of the Rebel Alliance had known for years of Emperor Palpatine's ultimate plan to crush all opposition to his rule. He need only wait until the Death Star was operational, and then all opposition would cower at his feet.

But Leia Organa believed differently. It would be impossible to remain neutral in the galactic conflict when confronted with the fact that Palpatine, and by extension his Empire, would do _anything_ to maintain control of the galaxy. Even exterminate entire civilizations.

If the Death Star's primary weapon were to ever be used…Leia could only imagine the implications.

A steel grip clamped down on her shoulder, and she twisted around to glance at Darth Vader, the second most powerful man in the Empire. Leia knew that others had crumpled before the Dark Lord's gaze, but Leia would not let herself be intimidated by such a creature. She had withstood his torture only hours earlier and continued to refuse to divulge information about the secret Rebel base. The young senator could _feel_ Vader's anger at her stubborn refusal, but still that did not intimidate her. She would be dead soon anyway, and at least she would go to her grave knowing that she had not betrayed her comrades. The Rebels would gain possession of the Death Star plans, strike a crushing blow against the Empire, and the path to freedom would begin to once again take hold in the galaxy.

Leia narrowed her eyes defiantly as she turned back to the scene in front of her. Her hands were bound, but the two officers beside her guided her towards a large room with a viewport. She allowed herself to spare a glance at the young officers escorting her. They seemed young and dutiful, like many fresh recruits from the Imperial academy, and Leia could only wonder if they knew the true nature of this battle station. The officer to her right met her eye and forcefully grabbed her arm and pushed her forward.

Ignoring his actions, Leia focused on the room in front of her. A sneer came to her lips as she recognized Grand Moff Tarkin, the commander of the Death Star, standing next to an admiral she did not know. Still surrounded by the two officers and Vader, Leia marched defiantly toward the gaunt-faced moff. "Governor Tarkin," she began, giving him an approximation of a diplomatic nod. "I should have expected to find you holding Vader's leash. I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board."

The older man smiled thinly. "Charming to the last," he drawled. "You don't know how hard I found it signing the order to terminate your life."

"I'm surprised you had the courage to take the responsibility yourself," she retorted. If she were to die, she would die with a fight.

Tarkin did not answer right away; he paced around the room, which Leia approximated to be one of the battle station's main control rooms, before turning back to her. "Princess Leia, before your execution, I would like you to be my guest at a ceremony that will make this battle station operational. No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now."

Leia allowed herself a guffaw. It was so simple to understand, how could the Empire not see it? "The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers," she warned him.

"Not after we demonstrate the power of this station," Tarkin countered. Leia's heart fluttered in her chest…was the station already operational? "In a way, you have determined the choice of the planet that will be destroyed first. Since you are reluctant to provide us with the location of the Rebel base, I have chosen to test this station's destructive power on your home planet of Alderaan."

It was only then that Leia noticed the swirling blue orb in the viewport in front of her—her beloved Alderaan—and her heart seemed to stop. All pretenses of bravery and valor flew out of her mind and her only thoughts were of her family and friends and all the other innocents living peacefully on the beautiful globe in front of her, and she found herself crying out, so unlike the stoic senator she had become: "_No! _Alderaan is peaceful, we have no weapons, you can't possibly—!"

Tarkin turned around, his features growing hard with impatience. "You would prefer another target, a military target? Then name the system!" He advanced on Leia, pressing her into the imposing figure behind her, as she glanced between him and her beloved home…

"I grow tired of asking this, so it will be the last time," he warned. _"Where is the Rebel base?"_

Leia's breath caught in her throat…did she dare reveal the Alliance's secret to save her beloved home, and the lives of the millions of innocents living there? If the Rebel base was destroyed it would be a disaster for the cause...but still, she knew that Mon Mothma and several other members of Alliance Command had been stationed elsewhere. Even if the Death Star turned its weapon on the main base, the Alliance would survive such an attack…

But Alderaan would not. An entire world, an entire civilization, would be destroyed in heartbeat because of her refusal to divulge a simple piece of information. Could she do that? Could she hold responsibility for such a disaster? Would she ever be able to forgive herself?

Her father was down there…Leia could only wonder what he would do in this situation. He was a fighter, but he would never be able to live with himself for causing the death of nearly two billion sentients…

And Leia knew it could never have been otherwise. "Dantooine," she whispered. Then, louder, more defiantly—"They're on Dantooine." She glared at Tarkin before taking a deep breath, collapsing into Vader's chest. It was done. She had saved her home.

Tarkin smiled thinly. "There. You see Lord Vader? She can be reasonable." Leia blinked tears from her eyes, silently cursing the horrible man…and then he turned to the admiral, and Leia heard the most frightening words she had ever heard in her life: "Continue with the operation. You may fire when ready."

Her stomach dropped from underneath her and it took all her strength not to collapse to the floor. She tried to rush forward to strike Tarkin but she couldn't move: _"What?"_

"You're _far _too trusting," Tarkin reproached. "Dantooine is too remote to make an effective demonstration, but don't worry—we will deal with your Rebel friends soon enough," he promised.

"No!" Leia groaned, but Vader's hand was still clasped on her shoulder, holding her back. In that moment she hated Vader more than she could ever hate Tarkin; how could he stand there and watch this? How could he hold her in place, forcing her to witness her planet's destruction? What kind of monster was he?

Leia grimaced and blinked away tears as she heard the controllers' voices over the comm system, the countdown to primary ignition, the calls for standby…

She wanted to scream, she wanted to turn away and hide her eyes from the carnage she was about to witness…but she couldn't. The people of Alderaan had no idea what was about to happen to them. They were innocents, about to be slaughtered by the Empire to prove its might and strike fear into the heart of the galaxy. They were Leia's family and friends and kin.

They were Alderaanians.

It would be a disgrace for her to turn away. She had to witness.

A bright green beam jumped across the blackness of space and before she could blink, Alderaan, her home, was gone.

The triumph in the room was palpable, and it took all of Leia's strength not to be sick. She keeled over, retching, as if she could feel the deaths of every person on the planet, but Vader's hand held her upright. She tried to pull away but he held her firm, and she felt the urge to spin around and spit on his helmet. Rage boiled up inside her and as Tarkin turned to stare at her, there was only one thing she could think of to say:

"And you call yourselves human."

Tarkin ordered for her to be taken back to her cell. Leia no longer cared if she would still be executed of if she would be spared for giving Tarkin the information he desired. She didn't care if he discovered her lie. It no longer mattered, because everything else in her world was gone.

The two young officers escorted her to her cell, Vader staying behind in the control room. Leia refused to look at him as she left, and she knew that the hatred she felt towards the man would burn inside her soul even after death.

Halfway to her cell, Leia allowed herself to glance at her captors. They looked to be not much older than herself, and unlike the earlier walk down the sterile corridors, they no longer appeared confident to hold the mantle of the Empire.

Seeing an opportunity, Leia grasped it. "Do you agree with what was just done?"

The officer on her right grabbed her arm more tightly. "Shut it, Princess. We're not supposed to talk to you."

Refusing to be discouraged, Leia turned to the man on her left. "And you? Will you stand by while the Empire murders entire worlds to demonstrate its power?"

He stared at her impassively. "Alderaan was full of traitors."

"Was it?" Leia countered. "Alderaan is—_was_—a peaceful planet."

"_You're _a Rebel," the first officer shot back.

Leia didn't deny it this time. "And that condemns every innocent being from my planet?" The officer didn't answer, and closed his mouth defiantly. Again Leia turned to the officer on her left, who had suddenly grown very quiet. Leia had always been very good at reading people, and she had a hunch… "Where are you from?" she asked.

"None of your business," the first officer said. "Now shut your mouth!"

But the other officer answered anyway, "I'm from Imperial Center."

"Coruscant," Leia said, purposefully using the planet's name during the Republic. "A lovely planet. But I sense that your heritage is not purely Coruscanti. Am I right?"

They had arrived at her cell just then, and the officer on her right grabbed her arm and shoved her hard through the doorway. "That's enough, _Your Highness_," he spat. "Enjoy the last few hours of your life."

The officer marched away down the hallway, leaving his companion to follow. But before he did, he paused in the cell's entry for a long moment, deep in thought. He reached out to activate the door…

And then he turned to Leia, a look of profound pain on his face. "My mother was from Alderaan," he whispered.

Leia nodded in understanding. "And you're going to stand for this?" she asked, gesturing around her, to the battle station that had destroyed a world.

For a moment the officer didn't answer. The he stood military straight, narrowed his eyes, and activated the door panel, leaving Leia alone in her cell.

But it didn't matter. Leia knew that, in the space of a heartbeat, everything in this war had changed.

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From a secluded corner of the Death Star's control room, Mara Jade, the Emperor's Hand, watched as an entire world was annihilated.

Her training kept her impassive, even as she struggled to shield her mind against the wave of anguish that threatened to overwhelm her through the Force. Across the room, Organa was hunched over as if she were to become ill. Despite the fact that the young senator was a Rebel and therefore Mara's sworn enemy, she could not help but feel sympathy for the other woman…sympathy _and_respect. Sympathy because the Princess had been forced to watch as her world was figuratively and literally destroyed, and respect because, in the end, she still remained determined and defiant.

The Princess was taken back to her cell, and Mara found herself watching Grand Moff Tarkin, commander of the Death Star, as he conferred with his two closest subordinates, Admiral Motti and General Tagge. The young Hand could not help but think that destroying Alderaan had been a huge blunder. She agreed that an example needed to be made of the Rebellion, so that other star systems did not openly rebel against the Empire. She knew that traitors to the Empire could not be tolerated; she had taken care of many of them herself. But using the Death Star against _Alderaan_? Organa's homeworld or not, it was a cultural and historical center of the galaxy. Many sons and daughters of the Empire came from the planet. How would they react to its destruction? Would they question the Empire that they so loyally served? Would they want to join the Rebellion to avenge their families' deaths? Would the Empire soon suffer the repercussions of mass defections?

"Emperor's Hand."

Before she could think too hard on the day's implications, Mara was startled from her thoughts by none other than Darth Vader. She cursed herself for allowing him to approach her unnoticed. Her master would chastise her greatly for such a mistake.

The imposing figure in front of her did not command her obedience, but Mara knew it was pointless to be anything but obedient towards the Dark Lord of the Sith. While they both reported directly to the Emperor, Vader maintained a much higher rank in the Empire, by virtue of the fact that the galaxy trembled in fear at his name. Mara, in turn, was an unknown, acting only under the Emperor's mandate, not her own.

She bowed her head in a polite greeting. "Lord Vader."

"Your presence here is an unexpected pleasure," he said. His sarcasm was obvious, but Mara refused to respond in kind.

"I apologize for the intrusion, Lord Vader. My ship was in need of repairs and this was reported to be the closest Imperial outpost."

For a long moment, there was silence. It was a classic strategy, to remain quiet and force your enemy to keep speaking, possibly to divulge important information. But Mara was not Vader's enemy, and she desired to remind him of that fact, so she bit her lip and forced herself to remain quiet. The Sith Lord had shown modest acceptance of her since their first introduction when she officially received the rank of Emperor's Hand, but Mara hoped that they could at least learn to work together in harmony, without outright animosity.

Finally Vader spoke, the battle of wills over. "I have been made aware that your ship has been repaired. You may leave the station immediately."

Mara knew that it was an order, not a gracious gesture. She also knew it would be futile to argue. "As you wish, Lord Vader. Thank you for your assistance."

"Emperor's Hand." His voice stopped her before she could turn to leave the control room. She turned and graced him with her most obedient of expressions. "I sense that you are disturbed about Governor Tarkin's actions today."

Mara's breath caught in her throat, and it was hard to stare blankly at the black helmet in front of her. Was Vader strong enough in the Force to break through her shields? Was she broadcasting her thoughts unknowingly? Whatever the case, she knew that the best strategy from this point was to be honest. If Vader had truly sensed her misgivings, it would be pointless to continue shielding. If he hadn't and was merely bluffing to force her to admit a wrongdoing on her part, she could always work that to her advantage…

"I simply question Governor Tarkin's insight, my lord," she began. "We all know that the Empire has recently experienced many problems with defectors. Therefore, I fear that today's test will cause many more soldiers to defect to the Rebellion."

"I see," Vader replied. "Perhaps you should present your misgivings to the Emperor. Surely he would be more than pleased to send his most trusted assassin to take care of such treason."

Mara nodded, wondering at Vader's overtures…had he finally realized that they were on the same side, and that she was not his enemy? Or did he have more devious intentions? Either way, it did not matter; although she had never before openly questioned her master, Mara knew that Vader was correct. The Emperor trusted her judgment and would no doubt see the danger that lay in wait as a result of Tarkin's actions. "Yes, Lord Vader," she said. "I thank you for your insight."

"Then, farewell, Emperor's Hand."

"Farewell, Lord Vader."

Mara left the control room, feeling the Dark Lord's stare boring into her back even as she disappeared down the hallway. She spoke to no one as she made her way through the battle station to her ship, and tried to put the day's events out of her mind as she piloted the ship out of the hangar and set a course for Imperial Center.

But later, as she lay in her bunk, her thoughts swirled around Alderaan and she could do nothing to stop it. For as long as she could remember, Mara had been raised to serve the Empire and fulfill the Emperor's commands without question. It was not her place to question the Empire that she loved and served, and she had never before had reason to do so. Yet today she had. Today, for the first time in her life, she had questioned the actions of the Empire. It did not matter that her intentions were benevolent. It did not matter that the person she questioned was Grand Moff Tarkin and not the Emperor himself. None of that mattered. In questioning alone, the Emperor's Hand had done the unthinkable.

She could think of nothing else as she drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

"Are you sure this looks okay?" Luke Skywalker asked, self-consciously reaching up to adjust the collar on his bright yellow jacket. The kid had been doing that for the last fifteen minutes and if Han hadn't known any better, he would have assumed that Luke was actually a thirteen-year-old girl from Kuat, not a nineteen-year-old farm boy from Tatooine.

Han Solo sighed, stealing a glance at his Wookiee co-pilot, Chewbacca, who was doing his best to ignore the situation and leave Han to comfort the nervous hero. "I told you, kid, you look fine," Han reassured him. "Besides, nobody in there," he gestured toward the large auditorium-style room where the ceremony would take place, "is going to give a damn what _you _look like, I can guarantee that."

Luke turned, somewhat insulted, still fiddling with his jacket. "Well I _did_ fire the kill shot, you know."

Han rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean it like _that_. I meant that everyone'll be staring at the Princess."

"Oh." Luke turned again, seemingly staring through the thick temple walls to where the Princess was waiting for them. "Yeah," he replied absently. "You're probably right."

The two men stood silently for a while, the only noise coming when Chewbacca rumbled a soft question. "No, I don't know why we're waiting," Han replied. "I guess the Rebels aren't as organized as the other side." Chewbacca guffawed at that, but Luke kept pacing, oblivious to their exchange.

"Are you _sure _this looks fine?" he asked again, palming his jacket again.

"For the hundredth time, yes! You look fine." Han himself was wearing the same outfit he'd come in on, but Luke's desert clothes weren't necessarily appropriate to wear when receiving a medal from Princess Leia Organa, so he'd scrounged together whatever he could find when they'd told him about the ceremony, and he'd been fretting ever since.

Luke looked down at himself, frowning in dissatisfaction. "I don't know how you can be so calm," he finally said. "Do you know how many people are going to be watching us?"

"So? You infiltrated the Death Star, rescued a princess, and flew head to head with Darth Vader, and now you're scared of a little medal ceremony? All ya gotta do is walk down that aisle, smile at the Princess, and get your award. Simple as ryshcate."

"Flying's easy. I didn't have all those people watching me fly."

"Well actually you did, you just weren't thinking about it at the time." The kid stopped in his tracks, visibly blanching, and Han immediately regretted what he had just said. The smuggler took a deep breath and leaned in conspiratorially. "Look, Luke. These things aren't that big a deal. With the way you fly, you better get used to 'em. I bet the Rebels are gonna want to give you a lot of these medals."

Luke smiled sheepishly. "Thanks, Han."

"No problem. Trust me, you do get used to it."

"How do you know?" Luke asked curiously.

"What, you think a guy like me has never gotten a medal before?"

"Oh…no…that's not what I meant…"

Han laughed and patted the younger man's arm. "Just messin' with you, kid. Actually…" Han trailed off, wondering about what he was going to say. He wasn't ashamed of his past, not by a long shot, but he wasn't one to go spilling his guts to every new person who entered his life. _Especially _not to a kid who was hell bent on joining this Rebellion.

But surprisingly, Han didn't see a reason not to be honest. He shrugged. "If you want to know the truth, I attended the Imperial academy at Carida."

Luke's eyes widened. "_You_ went to the academy?"

"Yup. Graduated top of my class. Trust me, we had to go through _a lot_of ceremonies like this one. Graduation was a piece of work. I hated them at first, but I got used to them. It was just part of the gig that I learned to live with."

"So what happened?"

"You mean, why am I not in the Empire no more?"

"Yeah."

"…There were other things I couldn't learn to live with." Han turned slightly toward his Wookiee co-pilot. Even the kid didn't miss the undertone.

"Oh. But if you left the Empire…why didn't you join the Alliance?"

"Well, first, I didn't have much of a choice but to leave. I was sort of written up for gross insubordination. By the time I learned a court martial was coming my way, well, I decided to get out of there before they could throw me in the brig. And second, back then there wasn't much of an Alliance to join. So instead I joined up with Chewie and we've been smuggling ever since."

"But now—"

Han turned sharply. "Now _what_, kid?"

"…Now you're here. And now there _is_ a strong Rebellion to join."

Han turned away, not meeting the kid's eye. "We'll see."

After a few moments of silence, Luke spoke up again. "Thanks for coming back, Han."

"Yeah, well." Han shifted, uncomfortable with the gratitude. It had been several days since the battle and the kid hadn't stopped thanking him. Gratitude from the Princess was one thing, but gratitude from Luke… "No problem. Just glad I could help." He could feel the other man's blue eyes staring intently at him, and he grabbed at his collar, nerves suddenly starting to bother him as well.

"Say, Luke," he started, trying to ease the tension, "where _did_ you get that jacket from anyway?"

Luke looked down, startled. "Why? It doesn't look good? I thought you said it looked good!"

"Calm down, it looks fine! It's just…well, I'm no fashion expert or anything, but I don't think you should wear bright yellow ever again."

"It's the only thing I could find," he explained.

"And don't worry, after saving their skins, I doubt they'll think any less of you for wearing it. But you really should burn it afterwards."

"I can't. I borrowed it."

"From who?"

"Wes Janson; new pilot, just got in from the Tierfon Yellow Aces. Said he wanted to honor the destroyer of the Death Star with his official squadron colors."

Han suppressed a laugh, coughing into his palm. Destroyer of the Death Star and yet the kid still had so much to learn… "Yeah, well. Between you and me, kid—burn it anyway."

Before Luke could respond, they heard trumpets blaring, indicating that the ceremony was about to begin. Han took a deep breath. "Here we go," he said, clasping the kid on the arm in encouragement. For a second Luke looked like a frightened animal, but he took a deep breath and smiled brightly anyway, unwilling to let his nerves show in front of his audience. Together they turned the corner, and Han saw Luke's eyes widen in amazement at the massed troops. Again Han suppressed a laugh, wondering what the kid would say if he ever saw what these things were like in the Empire.

As the two men walked down the aisle, Han did his best to ignore everyone watching him, remembering again why he hated all the pomp and circumstance that went along with a commission in the Empire. Instead he stared directly ahead, at the beautiful young woman in white waiting for them at the end of the aisle. After he received his medal, Han couldn't help himself; he winked at the Princess. Surprisingly, she smiled in return…

And as they turned around, Han took no notice of any of the applause, or Luke's brilliant smile, or even Chewbacca's victorious roar. For Han Solo, in that one moment, her smile was a greater reward than all the credits in the universe.

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><p>The celebration had overflowed from the audience hall to the mess to the hangars and even back to some of the more amorous Rebels' quarters. The mirth in the air was palpable, as was the relief that the Rebels were actually being granted a short moment of downtime, a brief respite from the perpetual, never-ending chase by the Empire. It would be a while before Vader arrived with the Imperial fleet to deliver justice for the destruction of the Death Star, but for now, they could celebrate in peace.<p>

But peace would not come for Leia Organa. It had left her in the Death Star control room and wouldn't be making a return any time soon. How could it? She was alone—orphaned for the second time—and forced to take upon her father's role as leader of the Rebellion. She had accepted his mantle without hesitation, but deep down, Leia wondered if she was up to the challenge. She was only nineteen, and while everyone in the Alliance seemed to respect her, there were many, many times she still felt like a little girl playing dress up.

She was standing outside in the humid night air, listening to the sounds of the jungle around her and staring at the stars above, wondering how long the Alliance had before the Empire would arrive at Yavin IV. The Rebels had grown quite skilled at abandoning their bases at a moment's notice, and knew the routine by heart, but the more time they had to evacuate, the easier it was for everyone. They'd start in the next few days, Leia knew; moving non-essential cargo and personnel off the moon, then slowly transferring personnel to the fleet until a new base could be established. Leia herself would stay at the base for as long as possible, even if they tried to order her to leave first. One thing the destruction of Alderaan had taught her—the Empire needed to be defeated at any cost. She'd give her life to defend the Rebellion.

They'd already taken everything else.

Leia tried to push the thoughts of Alderaan out of her mind as she heard someone approach her from behind. She was expecting to see Luke, as he'd taken to following her around everywhere, always asking if she was okay and if she needed to talk. She appreciated his concern and found him easy to get along with, but she was still somewhat wary of confiding her feelings to a relative stranger.

But instead of Luke, she turned to find Captain Solo walking towards her with two glasses in his hand. "Princess," he nodded.

"Captain Solo," she replied in turn, forcing herself not to groan in frustration. He'd been an enigma to her since she'd first laid eyes on him in the Death Star's detention block, a combination of fierce loyalty to those he deemed friends and utter indifference to any sort of higher cause. She'd been deeply hurt when he left before the battle and was overjoyed when he'd returned, saving the day like a bona fide hero.

And she would never admit to anyone, much less herself, that her heart had fluttered a bit when she'd heard his cheer coming in loud and clear over the comm.

Han presented her with a glass, pulling her from her thoughts. "Care for some wine?"

She shook her head and turned back to the railing, leaning against it. "No, thank you."

"You sure? They say it calms the nerves."

Leia raised an eyebrow, amused. "_They_ say? I highly doubt that a man such as yourself is unfamiliar with the effects of wine…"

She trailed off, allowing the innuendo the hover in the air, wondering what in the galaxy had prompted her to say something like that, but Han just chuckled, forcing the glass into her hand. "Actually, I am." Again she raised an eyebrow. He leaned in to whisper, "I usually drink ale."

Despite herself, Leia laughed and took a sip of the red liquid. "I guess it couldn't hurt." Next to her, the Corellian sipped his beverage. They stood in silence for a while, sipping their drinks and listening to the celebration still raging inside the Temple.

"So did Luke send you?" she finally said, when her glass had been halfway drained. Han looked up mid-sip, frothy foam from the ale still on his upper lip, and Leia had to bite her lip to suppress her grin.

"Huh?"

"Luke. He's been shadowing me since he got back from the Death Star, worried that I'm going to have a nervous breakdown or something. He sent you here to check on me, didn't he?"

Han looked away, finishing the rest of his ale in one gulp. "No. He didn't."

"Oh." Now Leia looked away, both embarrassed at her assumption that Luke was worried about her and at her supposition that Han himself didn't care enough to approach her on his own volition. Before she could say anything else, he spoke up again, cutting her off.

"He's a good kid, you know."

Leia nodded. "Yes. We're lucky to have him."

_"We?"_

"The Alliance, of course."

"Right. And what makes you so sure that Luke is going to join your cause?"

"Because he already signed up."

Han whipped toward her, surprise written on the lines of his face. "What?"

"He signed up as soon as we got here, Captain Solo."

"Oh."

"You didn't know?"

"Well…he _said _he was gonna join…I just didn't realize he'd already made it official."

"Well, he did. He's got great dedication, and he's a natural leader. He's just what the Alliance needs."

"Yeah. He's in there right now, yapping to Antilles about starting a new squadron. You really got him eating out of your hand, don't you?"

Leia's eyes narrowed, and she drew herself up to her full height. It was not imposing at all, but she didn't care; she was starting to get very fed up with this man. "Excuse me, Captain Solo, is there something you'd like to say?"

"Yeah." Han jutted his chin forward. "Luke's a special kid. Hell of a pilot, one of the best I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot. I heard recordings of the battle up there and how he stepped in and took leadership without so much as a prompting. But he's a _kid_, Princess."

"He's the same age as I am," Leia countered.

"And you grew up in a castle on Alderaan. He grew up on a moisture farm on Tatooine. What does he know about how the galaxy works? Kenobi fed him what he wanted to hear about his father and that Force business and now all Luke wants is to follow in his father's footsteps be the big Jedi hero."

Leia put her hands on her hips, forcing her expression to remain impassive when all she wanted to do was deck the man! "And what, may I ask, is wrong with that?"

"Nothing! If that's what he _really _wants."

"And why wouldn't it be?"

"Look, Your Worshipfulness." Leia straightened up again, stepping forward as her brown eyes blazed at the man's insolence, but he wasn't deterred, and that enraged her even more. "He's got nowhere else to go. The Empire killed his family and now all he wants is revenge. But perhaps he doesn't deserve this kind of life."

"This is _my_ life, Captain Solo. I'm not asking him to do anything that I'm not doing myself."

They glared at each other until Han finally looked away, suddenly embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Princess."

She shrugged, pushing the horrible thoughts of Alderaan out of her mind. "It's in the past. There's no point in dwelling on it."

"You think that's a healthy way to look at things?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask Luke?" she retorted. When he didn't respond, she continued, "Look, my father would want me to keep fighting, so that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to make him proud."

"I'm sure you already have, Princess."

She couldn't help but smile at that. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Luke is committed to the Rebellion. I wish I could say the same for you." She regarded him for a moment, watching something in him shift upon hearing her words…wondering if she had gotten through to him. If he would stay.

She doubted it. Men like him never changed. She should just accept it now before she even tried.

But she kept talking, keeping her tone as casual as she could. "We'll be starting the evacuation process soon. Moving non-essential supplies and personnel off the moon. We could use some reliable transports."

Han turned, curious. "Is that so?"

"The Rebellion can't pay the fees you're used to, but it'll be steady work at least."

The smuggler frowned at that. Leia expected him to scoff at her offer, but was surprised when he nodded. "Sure." He glanced at her. "If I can bring the kid."

Leia rolled her eyes. "If you can pry him away from his X-wing, be my guest."

He chuckled and stepped closer to her, taking her now-empty wine glass out of her hand and resting it on the stone balustrade, his fingers gently brushing against hers. She gave him a curious look and then, before she could stop him, he took her hand and placed it to his lips. "Good night, Princess," he whispered, staring into her eyes.

"Good night, Captain Solo." She turned away abruptly, not wanting him to see the flush that was creeping across her cheeks…

But he was still there, pulling her back to face him. "Call me Han," he said, with a wink.

She tilted her head in amusement. "Alright," she nodded. "And you can call me Leia."

He winked again. "Whatever you say…Your Highnessness."

* * *

><p>"So the officer stuffs out his chest, all pompous-like, and says 'You paid the tariff for this shipment?' And Booster just stares him down all serious and says 'No sir, I have an exemption form right here.' The officer snatches it, gives it a once over, says everything is in order and sends us on our merry way."<p>

"No offense, Wedge, but that's not a very good story."

"That's 'cause I ain't told the punchline yet—on the 'Reason for Exemption' line, Booster had written 'STOLEN GOODS.' I would've given a thousand creds to see the look on that CorSec officer's face!"

Luke threw his head back and laughed, remembering at the last second not to let his head hit the landing strut of his X-wing as he had the previous five times Wedge Antilles had made him laugh out loud. The two pilots had made their way out to the hangar to escape the celebration inside the Great Temple, both still a bit overwhelmed by all the attention they were receiving as the only survivors of Red Squadron. It was not something Luke wanted to be noticed for at all, and he knew that Wedge didn't, either. The Corellian pilot had been quiet and sullen after returning from the battle, and Luke had eventually sought him out, desperate for camaraderie with a male his age who could understand exactly what he was going through. Han was already like an older brother to him, and the Princess was—well, she was the _Princess_—but it turned out that Luke had much more in common with Wedge than both being survivors of the Death Star. Although they grew up in very different environments, they were both orphans and had been forced to grow up much faster than others their age, a startling trend among those enlisted in the Rebel Alliance. After a few days of Wedge's persistent survivor's guilt, Luke had finally broken through, reminding him that it was _Luke_ who'd ordered him to pull out of the trench, and if anyone besides Darth Vader was responsible for Biggs's death, it was Luke himself. They'd argued over that, of course, but Luke's point had driven home, and the two pilots had become fast friends, Wedge introducing Luke to some of the other pilots who hadn't been able to fight in the Death Star battle, and Luke starting to feel like he _really_ belonged with the Alliance.

"Booster was always pulling stuff like that," Wedge continued. "That's probably why I never followed in his footsteps and became a smuggler myself; I knew I could never compete with his antics."

Luke smiled and sipped some more of his ale, staring at the carbon scoring that marked what had become _his_ X-wing. Just days ago Luke had barely a hundred credits to his name, and now he had his own personal snubfighter, a medal given to him by a princess, _and_ a military commission. He'd been promoted to Captain as soon as the battle was over, but Luke wasn't so naïve that he hadn't noticed the rumblings that he'd be _Commander_ Skywalker soon enough.

And then there was the Jedi business. Luke still wondered where that fit in with his new path. When he'd left Tatooine for Alderaan, he'd expected Ben to be around to help him learn the ways of the Force. Now, Ben was gone, and Luke had no one to teach him what he so desperately wanted to learn. Could he teach himself? Ben had showed him a few skills in their short time together, and Luke would practice as much as he could to increase his natural talent with the Force. But would it be good enough? And would he even have time, now that he was committed to the Rebellion? Ben had said that it was necessary that Luke learn the ways of the Force if he were to serve the Rebellion to the best of his ability…but the Force was still so foreign to Luke. Using it felt natural…just unsteady and unfamiliar.

Flying his X-wing…that, surprisingly, was _completely _familiar. Sometimes, he never wanted to stop flying. He'd take off right now for a joy ride if he weren't slightly intoxicated.

He took another drink and his unsteady hand forced his ale to slosh onto his borrowed jacket. Okay, maybe he was _more _than just slightly intoxicated. It was only the third time in his life he'd drank alcohol and he still wasn't very used to the stuff. At least the jacket wasn't important. Han had said he should burn it, after all.

"If you wanna be in the military, you really need to learn how to hold your liquor," Wedge declared. "Nobody's gonna take you seriously as their Commander if you can't drink 'em under the table."

"Excuse me?" Luke questioned, shoving his medal into Wedge's face.

"Alright, fine, maybe they _will_ take you seriously, regardless."

"Thought so," Luke smiled, shoving his new friend in the arm. Wedge shoved back, and then they both leaned on their elbows, continuing to stare at the underside of their snubfighters and nursing their ale. "You really think they'll make me a Commander?"

"Did you not just shove the medal you got for blowing up the Death Star in my face?"

"Yeah, but…that was a lucky shot," Luke protested, even as he heard Ben's lesson in his mind that, for a Jedi, there was no such thing as luck.

"Lucky shot, my ass. Just take the compliment, alright?"

Luke laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thanks."

"You should go talk to Narra. Now that the celebration is over, he's gonna want to do something with the leftover pilots."

"Yeah, he mentioned something to me earlier," Luke admitted. Commander Arhul Narra of Renegade Squadron had indeed approached Luke after the medal ceremony with the opportunity to lead his own group of pilots. Luke had acted gracious and honored, of course, but in truth he was somewhat petrified. "It's just…I just got here and they're already throwing all this stuff at me. What if I screw up?"

"Well, Skywalker, let me tell you the secret to success in the military."

"What's that?"

"An exemplary Executive Officer," he replied, linking his hands behind his head.

"Ah. You know where I can get one of those?" Luke deadpanned. Wedge glared at him and Luke broke into a grin, unable to keep a straight face. "Of course I want you to help me, Wedge! You're the closest friend I've got here, besides Leia and Han, of course. But I still don't know why _I_ should be leading _anything_. You've been here longer than me."

"That don't mean anything in the Alliance. We're not the Empire—we reward based on merit and skill. And you've got both."

"Thanks, Wedge."

"Just remember all these nice things I'm saying when it comes time to assign the less appealing squadron duties."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"And besides, I could never be a squadron leader. I hate paperwork."

"I'll keep that in mind, too." Luke paused, taking another drink. "You got any ideas on who we could fill out a squadron with? I doubt we have enough for a full roster of twelve just yet."

"Well there's you and me, obviously. Definitely Hobbie Klivian and Wes Janson." Luke nodded at Wedge's mention of the two pilots who'd been deemed too sick to fly over the Death Star—possibly the only two men who'd felt more survivor's guilt than Wedge himself.

"What about Zev Senesca and Dack Ralter?" Luke suggested, naming two of the newer pilots who'd just arrived at the base.

"Zev, definitely," Wedge agreed. "Not sure about Ralter. He seems a little young, don't you think?"

"He is, but he's got a lot of potential. I think with the right training, he'd be a good sixth man."

"Well then, that seems like a good bunch to me. You should go talk to Narra tomorrow, let him know that you've already assembled the new Red Flight, and were drunk when doing so, to boot!"

"Very funny. But seriously, I don't want to use the Red Squadron name. I think it should be retired."

Wedge nodded, suddenly serious. "You're right. Got any ideas?"

"Well," Luke started. "We'll be flying with the Renegades…so what about the Rogues?"

"Rogues." Wedge let the word play on his lips, then nodded. "I like it. Rogue Flight it is!"

The two men exchanged handshakes, confirming their new flight roster, name, and wing assignments, all under the fuselage of two badly carbon scored X-wings. During a lull in the conversation, Luke leaned over to Wedge conspiratorially. "Hey, by the way…if you want to serve as my XO, there's something you need to know."

"What's that? You're actually Darth Vader's son?"

Involuntarily, Luke's eyes narrowed and he took a sharp intake of breath. He called on the Force to make the anger rising up inside of him dissipate away, knowing that Wedge had not meant anything by his joke; after all, the Corellian didn't yet know the truth about Vader having killed Luke's father. He wasn't ready to divulge that part of his family history just yet.

Forcing himself to breathe steadily, Luke refocused and shook his head slowly at his friend. "Nope. It's much more serious than that."

"Now you're scaring me."

"You should be scared. See, my leadership style is to delegate all of my paperwork to my XO."

"…That's just cruel, Luke."

Luke grinned. "Gotcha, Antilles."

Wedge leaned back and barked out a laugh, slapping Luke on the shoulder. "You know, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership."

"It already is, Wedge. It already is."


	3. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

The Imperial Palace was designed to intimidate.

Rebuilt by Palpatine after he'd come to rule as Emperor, it stood three kilometers tall and over two square kilometers in area. It could be seen from anywhere within the Palace District; some even falsely murmured that it could be seen from anywhere on Imperial Center. Apartments surrounding the Palace were valued based on the view they granted of the Palace, but everyone knew that it was the view from _inside_ the vast pyramid that was truly priceless.

An entire life could be spent without venturing outside the immense structure, and it was rumored that many officers and aides did just that. The entire Empire was run from inside the Palace; what reason could there possibly be to step outside its walls? Even the Emperor himself rarely left his precious seat of power.

Brought here when she was only a toddler, Mara Jade could not remember the first time she laid eyes on the Palace, but she did recall being awed by its incredible opulence. Every furnishing, piece of artwork, and raw material used in the Palace was of the highest quality; the Emperor would not stand for anything else. As she grew older, Mara had become accustomed to such a high standard of living, even gaining a preference for the fijisi wood that decorated her quarters, but her instructors had done well to train her to live in any condition necessary for her to fill her Emperor's commands.

Her teachers had been the best the Empire could provide. The Emperor himself had trained her in the ways of the Force, and she learned espionage and assassination skills alongside the Imperial Royal Guard. Her first solo mission occurred when she was fourteen, and she was officially given the title of Emperor's Hand a little over two years ago, when she had just turned sixteen. Most of the Imperial Court believed Mara to a simple dancer or concubine, and she did her best to encourage those rumors. In truth, she was given free reign to cross the galaxy and deliver justice to traitors in the name of the Emperor. But she was more than just a covert agent. She could hear Palpatine's call from anywhere in the galaxy, and that was why he trusted her above all others.

Since she'd become the Emperor's Hand, Mara had often been away from the Palace. The Emperor had granted her a personal starship and protocol droid to use on missions. While she did not mind staying in the Palace, she had also come to enjoy her time away from Imperial Center. It awarded her a sense of freedom, which Mara knew was the Emperor's way of showing his appreciation.

Still, there were times when the Emperor felt it necessary to assert his will, which was why Mara had been called to the grand Throne Room at the apex of the Palace. Whereas the rest of the Palace strove to intimidate in its grandeur, the hallway outside the Throne Room did the opposite. There were no furnishings, no pieces of artwork hanging from the wall, no tile mosaics or rich carpetings on the floor. The hallway's only focus was the vast set of doors, several stories high, which opened to the Throne Room.

The bareness of the hallway was one of Palpatine's most brilliant maneuvers. Being summoned to an audience with the Emperor was intimidating enough. First visitors to this part of the Palace found themselves confused by the lack of distractions, and with nothing else to take their concentration, they became overwhelmed by their impending meeting with the ruler of the galaxy. And that was exactly what the Emperor desired.

Mara herself had been called to the Throne Room more times than she could count, so she no longer was nervous before having an audience with her master. After all, she had never failed him, and had no reason to be worried about a reprimand. While she could speak to him from anywhere in the galaxy, Palpatine preferred to have Mara report to him in person, and that did not bother her—she would do anything that her Emperor ordered.

But this time she was not happy to have been summoned. This time, she was forced to wait in the hallway while Darth Vader reported to their master regarding his failure at the Death Star.

It was a purposeful move, done to remind Mara exactly the punishment she would face if she failed her master in the way Lord Vader had. She could hear nothing from where she stood stoically, but that did not matter; she could feel Palpatine's disapproval and anger through the Force, and that was enough to set her nerves on end.

It was the only thing in the galaxy that could so utterly frighten her.

But she did her best not to show her fear, for that would be an even greater mistake in the Emperor's eyes. She was trained to be emotionless, to accomplish each task without apprehension.

Still, it was hard not to wince at the incredible agony and rage she felt swirling through the Force. She clamped her eyes shut, blocking out the intense emotions inside the Throne Room to the best of her ability, and instead contemplated what she would tell the Emperor about Alderaan. It would be pointless to hide her thoughts from her master, and she did not want to give him the impression that she disapproved of the Empire's actions. No, Mara would merely express her concern that the destruction of Alderaan could be used to gain sympathy for the Rebellion and start a chain of mass defections among the military. She would present her argument in a calm, calculated matter.

Surely, the Emperor would not begrudge her that. After all, he trusted her, had faith in her.

The Emperor's Hand nodded slowly. Unlike Lord Vader, she had no reason to ever fear the retribution of her master.

She would never fail.

.

.

.

.

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"You have failed me, my apprentice."

"Yes, Master."

"I am disappointed, Lord Vader. Very disappointed indeed."

Darth Vader did not respond. What could he say to appease his master's wrath? The Death Star had been destroyed, and the Rebels had slipped through his grasp. He had known that he would be punished as soon as he faced the Emperor again.

And he had been, called to the Throne Room immediately on his return to Imperial Center and forced to withstand his master's torture. Vader had never failed in such a manner, and as the Emperor had raged against him he wondered with idle curiosity if his life would now be forfeit. He did not fear death—fear had been burned out of his body nearly twenty years ago on the shores of Mustafar. Still, it was interesting, to consider that the Emperor may have finally come to the conclusion that Vader was replaceable.

But it seemed that Palpatine still saw use for his apprentice. Vader felt his master's rage slowly dissipate through the Force, and finally he gestured and ordered, "Rise, my friend." Vader did as requested, still bowing his head deferentially.

"You will fix this, Lord Vader."

"Yes, Master."

"You will return to the _Devastator_ and continue to hunt the Rebel Alliance."

"What of the Rebel base?" Vader knew it would be pointless to try to attack Yavin IV now. The Rebels would have already started their evacuation process, and would use an attack by the Imperial fleet as an opportunity to launch their own assaults elsewhere in the galaxy. Still, if his master desired for him to destroy the base immediately, he would.

But apparently Palpatine had the same concerns. "Inconsequential. Allow them peace of mind to evacuate. Your new flagship will be completed shortly. You will take the _Executor _and destroy what remains of the base as a demonstration of the Super Star Destroyer's power. And you will bring me the name of the Rebel who destroyed my battle station."

"Yes, my Master," Vader nodded. In his eyes, the loss of the Death Star was in fact a _good _thing for the morale of the Imperial Navy. He had heard the rumblings of discontent among his soldiers regarding the Emperor's focus on his precious battle station. They worried that, with the Rebel resistance brought into line by the fear of another Alderaan, the fleet's importance would slowly diminish. While Vader would go to any measures necessary to crush the Rebellion, he knew that the Death Star was not the means to that end. Yes, it would strike fear in the local systems, as the misguided Admiral Motti had claimed, but Vader had truly believed that such a station was unnecessary.

And ultimately, it had been a drain on resources and inherently flawed in its design.

But it was Palpatine's pet project, dating back to the time of the Clone Wars, and he was deeply angered by its destruction. Vader knew that another battle station was most likely already under construction, so he would go along with his master and pretend to be just as disturbed by the events at Yavin.

Palpatine paused for a moment, steepling his fingers in thought. "My Hand was on my battle station," he stated, his displeasure radiating through the Force. "That is unacceptable, Lord Vader."

"I was unaware of her arrival—"

"You are a Sith Lord," Palpatine hissed. "I gave you a simple task—keep her away from the Death Star. She was _not_to witness the project."

Again Vader remained silent, knowing that nothing he could say would satisfy his master. Palpatine was adamant about protecting his young Hand, ensuring that she not witness the more brutal aspects of the Empire. Palpatine had not wanted to explain to her the necessity of the Death Star, and now he had no choice but to placate her misgivings. The Emperor had invested much time and effort in training the girl, and he would not tolerate any wavering loyalty on her part. Vader knew that witnessing the Death Star destroy Alderaan had momentarily shaken the girl's faith.

The Emperor sighed as if reading Vader's mind, which might have been the case. "Go, my friend. I must speak with my Hand." Palpatine's sulphuric yellow eyes flashed threateningly. "And _do not_ fail me again."

Vader bowed. "Yes, Master."

"Lord Vader?" Palpatine's raspy voice stopped the Dark Lord before he could turn away completely. Apprentice regarded master impassively, helmet tilted in reverence. "See that is attended to before your departure." He gestured to the stump of electronics and wires where Vader's right hand had been.

"Yes, Master," he replied graciously. He passed through the Throne Room doors with a renewed sense of determination. The Rebels would not be able to evade him for long, and when he found them, they would suffer. He would make up for his mistakes.

The Emperor's Hand stood in the hallway, carefully concealing her emotions. He stepped past the girl and ignored her polite bow, stalking down the corridor as his cloak billowed in his wake.

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Mara felt no surprise when Vader ignored her. She kept her head bowed as he passed her by, looking up momentarily to steal a glance at the mass of electronics that had taken the place of his right hand. She suppressed a wince and almost—_almost_—felt sorry for the Sith Lord. But she did not allow herself to feel such a thing, because he deserved his fate, and he knew it.

Quietness permeated the hallway as his rasping breath disappeared. Mara stared straight ahead, breathing slowly and preparing herself for her meeting with her master. The doors to the Throne Room remained open, but the young woman would not allow herself to enter before being invited.

Finally, after several minutes, she heard his call: _Come._Steeling herself, she entered the Throne Room and walked purposefully towards her master.

He sat on his opulent throne, regarding her with interest as she approached him. She did not make eye contact; to do so before he acknowledged her would be an immense breach of etiquette. As she reached the throne she fell on bended knee, again waiting for her master's command.

She heard the huge Throne Room doors close. "Rise, my child," the Emperor commanded. She did so, keeping her head bowed as she stepped forward slightly. "You have been successful." He did not need to ask; she had, of course, answered his call as soon as she completed her mission.

"Yes, Master," Mara confirmed, finally raising her head to meet the Emperor's gaze. He regarded her with pride, and she felt the warmth of his approval envelop her Force sense, renewing her sense of purpose and loyalty to the Empire. "The traitors have been taken care of."

"Good. Good. Were they eliminated?"

Mara shook her head. "No, Master. I was able to bring them into custody. They should be arriving on Imperial Center at any moment."

"Very good, my child. I am sure that they will bring much amusement to Ysanne."

Mara suppressed a shudder at the mention of the Imperial Intelligence director. She did not care for Ysanne Isard at all, and considered her to be highly disturbed. But Palpatine had placed a great deal of trust in Isard and therefore Mara would do her best to retain a modicum of respect for the woman.

She had little time to consider those thoughts before the Emperor abruptly rose from his throne. He held out a hand to Mara, gesturing for her to follow him. "Walk with me," he requested. Mara obeyed his command as always, staying a polite distance away from her master as they crossed the Throne Room, coming to a stop in front of the large, wall-sized transparisteel viewports. Mara watched the traffic outside with vague interest, but she was merely waiting for the Emperor to begin the conversation she knew he had called her to have.

.

Palpatine watched the girl, studying her emotions and feeling her apprehension through the Force. He was not pleased at all to have this conversation with his precious Hand, but because of Lord Vader, it was now necessary in order to retain her devotion. Palpatine had gone to great lengths to keep Mara from witnessing the more severe aspects of the Empire. She was immensely loyal—that was one of her greatest traits—but she was also extremely principled and strongly believed in her mission to defend the citizens of the Empire. She was also very different from Palpatine's other trusted servants. She was ruthless, but did not kill unless it was absolutely necessary to complete her mission. Her regard for human life did not come at the expense of her own, but she preferred to bring traitors to justice instead of killing them outright.

Such a mindset—it could not be called compassion—had been encouraged in the girl from the time her training began. She was not trained as a Sith nor as a Jedi; she was something else entirely: an experiment, molded to carry out the Emperor's will and deliver justice to those who threatened the stability of the Empire. Mara's sense of honor and loyalty made her perfect for such a position, and since he had granted her the title of Emperor's Hand, she had yet to fail her master.

And now the precious balance was threatened because she had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not only had she been on the Death Star, but she had been present when Tarkin had made his demonstration. Alderaan had been harboring traitors and Mara knew this, but she also knew that there were innocents on the planet, as well as citizens loyal to the Empire, and she had felt _all_ of their deaths, not just the traitors. It would be difficult for her to come to terms with such a shift in the Force.

But even though Palpatine was disturbed at the recent turn of events, he did not worry too much about his precious Hand. She'd been raised as a servant of the Empire and he had complete confidence in her continued service. This was just a bump in the road that needed to be smoothed.

.

"I sense you are disturbed, my child," the Emperor said, his tone compassionate and encouraging. She smiled at herself, wondering how she could have ever doubted her master's faith in her. Surely he would know that her feelings about Alderaan had nothing to do with her loyalty to the Empire, but instead stemmed from concern.

"Yes, Master," she replied softly. "I am sorry, but I'm afraid I do not agree with Grand Moff Tarkin regarding the destruction of Alderaan."

"I see. Unfortunately for Governor Tarkin, he is no longer able to defend himself. A pity."

Mara quickly glanced away so the Emperor would not see her smile, but she could still sense his amusement. He touched her arm gently, sending reassuring waves through the Force. "Tell me your thoughts, child."

The young Hand turned back to her master. As she spoke, she bowed her head, a sign that no matter what her misgivings, she would ultimately defer to her master's will. "I fear the repercussions of such an act. Alderaan was popular in the Imperial senate, and its loss will be felt throughout the galaxy. Surely, the Rebellion will use the planet's destruction to gain more support."

"I see. There is more?"

"Yes," Mara admitted. "Many soldiers throughout the Empire have Alderaanian backgrounds or were sympathetic to the planet. I worry that they will use the planet's destruction as an excuse to defect to the Rebellion. Such mass defections could be disastrous for the military."

The Emperor smiled thinly. "I think you overestimate the strength of the Rebellion, my child. But ultimately, you are correct. The Rebellion will most certainly use this to their advantage, and their victory at Yavin will be seen by many as a turning point. It is imperative that this be taken care of immediately."

"Yes, Master." Mara mentally sighed in relief that the Emperor agreed with her. Once again, she was disturbed that she had ever doubted her master's wisdom.

"I would like for you stay at the Palace for awhile," Palpatine continued. "Refresh your training and your mind. I feel that the next few months will be critical for the Rebellion. For now, we will let them gain their false sense of security."

"As you wish," Mara said, idly wondering if there was any other reason why the Emperor was requesting her presence at the Palace. She quickly disregarded those thoughts. He was, of course, merely rewarding her for another mission accomplished.

"Go relax, my child. You will be back in my service soon enough."

"Thank you, Master." Mara bowed and left the Throne Room, stretching out with the Force and feeling her master's sense of approval envelop her once again. It filled her with pride, knowing that she had done her duty to the best of her ability and that he appreciated her success.

Mara reached her quarters and settled in, arranging her furnishings the way she liked and taking out some of her personal effects to increase the feeling of home. She would use her time in the Palace to train and refresh, as the Emperor commanded. And when the time was right, she would be ready to go out into the galaxy and serve her master once again.


	4. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

General Jan Dodonna, Alliance Minister of War and commander of the Yavin IV base, sat back in his chair and placed his datapad on his desk. "I have to hand it to you, Captain Skywalker. Under other commanding officers, most of your pilots would have come back in pieces. You showed great leadership out there."

"Thank you, sir," Luke Skywalker replied respectfully. "But my pilots deserve all the commendation for staying alive."

"Ah, you're being modest," Commander Narra interjected from beside Luke. "But the Rogues are certainly proving themselves to be the premier pilots of the Alliance. I'll have to instruct my Renegades to spend more time in the sims."

Luke grinned and again thanked his superior officers. He'd been in charge of Rogue Flight for three months now and was finally starting to feel like a true leader in the Alliance. His pilots were confident, listened to orders, and worked extremely well together—when Janson wasn't on another prank rampage, that is. (Of course, such antics usually united the rest of the Rogues against him in extremely humorous retaliations, so Luke always turned a blind eye to such occasions.)

Rogue Flight had just returned to Yavin IV from an escort mission that had become an ambush, but the Rogues had managed to hold off the TIEs long enough for the transports to make another jump to lightspeed. Luke had felt immense pride that his group had been able to pull off such a feat, and was once again very glad for all of his pilots—especially Wedge, who had more than proven himself as his XO. Luke smiled, thinking of how his friend had opened up since the Death Star battle, and finally seemed to have gotten over his guilt about being forced to pull out of the trench run, and was now putting all his efforts into flying for the Rogues.

Both Luke and Narra rose from their chairs and saluted General Dodonna, but the aging general stopped Luke before he could leave the office. "As you know, Captain Skywalker, we'll be starting the final evacuation of the base within the week. After your success in your last mission, I hope that I can count on your Rogues to help lead the process."

Luke nodded eagerly. "Of course, general. We'll be glad to assist in any way possible."

"I knew I could count on you. You know, you take after your father very much."

The young pilot's head snapped up. "You knew my father?"

"Knew _of _him," Dodonna clarified. "Everyone who served in the Clone Wars knew of General Skywalker, of course."

The name echoed through Luke's mind: _General Skywalker. _For most of his life, he had believed that his father had been a navigator on a spice freighter. Then, one fateful day, he had met Ben Kenobi and come to learn that his father had in fact been a Jedi Knight named Anakin Skywalker, who had been killed by Darth Vader before Luke was born. Since arriving at the Alliance, some of the older leaders had approached Luke with stories of his father. They had described him as a fierce warrior, willing to go to any lengths to turn the tide of battle. They seemed to believe that Luke was destined to follow in his footsteps.

Their belief in him scared him senseless…but also filled him with immense determination to prove them right.

In comparison, nobody seemed to have any information about the identity of his mother. It appeared that his parents had not been married, or they had kept their relationship a secret. It saddened Luke to suddenly have so much information about his father, and yet his mother's identity was still shrouded in mystery. He tried not to dwell on that fact, and remained grateful that he at least knew the truth about his father now.

"You even resemble him," Dodonna continued. "We all believed that the Jedi were gone after Palpatine came to power, but now…it seems as if we were wrong."

Luke nodded, unsure of what to say. He had grown confident in his abilities as a pilot but his Jedi skills were still lagging far behind. He made a promise to himself to start practicing more after they arrived at their new base.

"…leadership believes that someone such as yourself will be a rallying point for the rest of the military," Dodonna was saying. Luke mentally scolded himself and readjusted his focus. "You have more than proven yourself in your time here, and as such I am officially promoting you to the rank of commander. Congratulations, Commander Skywalker."

The general stood and Luke quickly followed, snapping a salute. "Thank…_thank_ you, sir," he stammered. Luke had heard rumors of a promotion for a while, but had refused to believe it would actually happen. It appeared that Wedge had been right after all.

"We'll expect you at the evacuation briefing tomorrow morning at 0800. And feel free to bring your executive officer."

Luke grinned; Wedge was going to _hate_ being dragged to an official briefing. He couldn't wait to break the news to his XO that his presence was required, especially so early in the morning. "I'll be sure to do that, general. Thank you very much." Snapping another salute, Luke turned and left the office. He felt like he was walking on air as he made his way down the hallway. He was so distracted by his new promotion that he nearly walked smack into Han and Leia, coming from the other direction.

"Hey kid, watch where you're going," the Corellian scolded good-naturedly.

"Sorry, Han." Luke rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. He hated doing stupid things in front of the Princess. "I guess I was distracted."

"I'll say. It's a good thing I was here to protect Her Highnessness from getting run over, huh?"

Next to Han, Leia scowled. Not giving Luke an opportunity to answer, she leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Have you reported to General Dodonna yet?" she asked with a gleam in her eye.

Luke smiled sheepishly. "I just left his office, actually."

The Princess broke into a huge grin. "Well then, would it be safe to tell you congratulations?"

"It would."

Leia threw her arms around Luke. "I'm so happy for you!"

"Well…" Luke trailed off, feeling his cheeks flush.

"Hey, what's goin' on?" Han interrupted.

"Ah, nothing; Dodonna promoted me to Commander."

"Hey, that's great, kid," Han exclaimed, slapping Luke on the back. "You deserve it, you really do."

"Thanks, Han." Luke couldn't help but notice that Han didn't seem as excited to hear Luke's news, and knew why: Han believed that Luke was signing his own death mark by serving in the Alliance. To Luke's amazement, the smuggler had stuck around for the past several months, helping out with the evacuation process and even going on several supply runs. Luke half-expected Han to take off for good any day now, but the Corellian kept surprising him, and Luke wondered if Han was sticking around just to keep an eye on him. Luke wasn't complaining, of course; he, more than anyone, wanted Han to join the Alliance for good. But Han didn't seem any more willing to dedicate himself to a higher cause than he'd been the day they'd arrived on the moon. At least he finally seemed to accept that Luke was in it for the long haul.

Luke turned to Leia. "I guess I'll see you at the briefing tomorrow?"

"Yes, and don't worry; I doubt they'll expect you to come to _all_ the Command meetings from now on," Leia teased.

"And you wonder why I ain't signed up for your crazy Rebellion," Han mumbled under his breath. Again Leia scowled at him.

"Come on, Captain," she said through gritted teeth. "And don't forget, as my escort, _you_ get to attend the briefing tomorrow, too."

Han rolled his eyes. "Oh, great." After saying farewell, the pair continued down the hallway. Luke turned around and watched their retreating forms, suddenly curious. Just when had they started walking around together? And Han was flying Leia off Yavin? She could hardly stand the man. Luke couldn't help but wonder what was going on.

But he shrugged and did his best to put those thoughts out of his mind. It wouldn't do him any good to be preoccupied during the evacuation process. Instead, he'd go inform his pilots that they were now required to refer to him as 'Commander' at all times.

He couldn't _wait _to hear Wedge's reaction to that piece of news.

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Admiral Kendal Ozzel stepped onto the bridge of the _Executor,_pausing for just a moment to observe his new subordinates before striding forth to converse with the ship's captain. Promoted just a month prior, Ozzel had been granted the most coveted position in the Imperial Navy: commander of Darth Vader's personal fleet of Star Destroyers known as Death Squadron.

The group of Star Destroyers, along with the newly constructed Super Star Destroyer, had been tasked with one goal and one goal only: to find and destroy the Rebel forces. Ozzel's first order was to lead the assault on the Rebel base at Yavin IV. He knew that most of the Rebels had already evacuated, but it was a symbolic mission, meant to strike fear in the hearts of traitors and demonstrate the might of the Imperial fleet. The Death Star may have been destroyed, but the Imperial Navy was still a force to be reckoned with.

"Admiral Ozzel?" Captain Firmus Piett turned from his position behind the navigator's station. "We'll be coming out of lightspeed in five minutes."

Ozzel nodded curtly. "Very good. Inform General Veers to prepare his troops for ground assault."

"Yes, Admiral. Should I inform Lord Vader that we'll be arriving in system?"

"No, Captain. Leave that to me."

"As you wish, sir." Piett saluted and left the bridge, leaving Ozzel to watch the man's disappearing form. Piett was a competent captain, with a lot of support from the _Executor_'s crew. And, as such, Ozzel disliked the man entirely. Because he was often shuttled between the various Star Destroyers that made up Death Squadron, Ozzel was not nearly as respected among the flagship's officers as Piett. That had to change, and quickly, if Ozzel was to assert his authority as the most powerful officer in the fleet.

Of course, there was one person in the fleet who was vastly more powerful. The admiral paused as he reached Lord Vader's chambers. The leader of the Empire's military was an enigma, at once both highly logical and competent as well as volatile and temperamental. Vader did not tolerate mistakes, and larger blunders were often punishable by death. But serving with Vader was the highest recognition one could receive in the Imperial Navy, and therefore Ozzel had accepted his new position greedily, hoping that it could one day grant him even more power in the Empire. Perhaps if something were to happen to Lord Vader…

He silenced that thought before finishing. He had heard rumors that Vader could read thoughts, and had to continuously remind himself to clear his mind before approaching his commander.

Entering Vader's quarters, Ozzel waited before the black dome in which he'd come to learn Vader spent much of his time off the bridge. After several moments, the chamber began to separate, like the mouth of a great beast opening to devour its prey, to reveal Darth Vader, staring at Ozzel unsettlingly.

"Yes, admiral?"

"We are approaching the Yavin system, my lord."

"Good. Are General Veers' troops prepared for ground assault?"

"Yes, my lord."

"When we arrive in the system, order the other Destroyers to form a blockade. The _Executor _alone will approach the moon and destroy the base."

Ozzel frowned. "Are you sure, Lord Vader? We would have much more firepower if accompanied by other Destroyers—"

"You will do as I command, Admiral Ozzel. Bring the _Executor_ and the _Executor_ only. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my lord," Ozzel responded. Before he could say anything else, the chamber closed in front of him.

Sighing, Ozzel made his way back to the bridge just in time for the reversion to real space. He begrudgingly transmitted Vader's orders to the other captains and made preparations for the _Executor_ to make another short jump to Yavin IV.

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Every officer on the _Executor_ knew when Lord Darth Vader arrived on the bridge. His boots _clacked_ ominously and his breath rasped menacingly, a warning to all his subordinates that mistakes would not be tolerated on Vader's watch.

Vader ignored the stares as he stalked towards Admiral Ozzel, who was staring out the viewports at the mottled pattern of hyperspace. "Well, admiral?"

"I transmitted your orders as requested, my lord. We'll be arriving at the Rebel base in moments. General Veers has orders to launch his troops as soon as we come out of hyperspace."

"Good," Vader responded. He was so close to regaining the Emperor's favor. Now, he just had one more task to accomplish. "Inform General Veers that I will be accompanying his troops."

Ozzel's head snapped up in confusion. "My lord? Surely you won't be off the bridge during our assault?"

"I have business to attend to on the moon. Surely you are capable of commanding an assault on your own, _admiral_…?" Vader trailed off, allowing the implication to hover in the air. It worked wonderfully, and the aging admiral began to balk in protest.

"Yes…yes, of course," he stammered.

"Then you are in control now, Admiral Ozzel. Do not make me regret your assignment."

"Never, my lord."

"I hope so, admiral, for your sake," Vader threatened, staring down at Ozzel from behind helmeted eyes. Somehow, Ozzel managed to maintain his composure and did not back down. The Sith Lord gave him some credit for that.

With a swift movement of his cloak, Vader turned and exited the bridge. Soon, he would be on the moon; soon, he would have the Rebel leaders in his clutches.

And very soon, he would know the name of the pilot he'd almost shot down, the one who was so very strong in the Force. And the Emperor would be pleased.

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"This piece of junk is never going to get us past that Super Star Destroyer!"

Han cringed and tried to ignore the shrill voice coming from behind the captain's chair. "Hey, flying in this ship was your idea, sweetheart, not mine!"

"Don't remind me." Han could almost hear Leia's eyes roll.

"Are you at least strapped in back there? We gotta jump as soon as we get clear of these TIEs."

"Of _course_ I'm strapped in, you nerfherder! I do have some experience in space travel, you know."

Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on the way Han wanted to look at the situation—See-Threepio's chatter interrupted their bickering. "Captain Solo, I do believe that Princess Leia is correct. The odds of successfully avoiding capture by an Imperial Super Star Destroyer are approximately—"

"Shut up, Goldenrod, or you're gonna find yourself blown out the airlock!"

"…Shutting up, sir."

Han banked the _Millennium Falcon _into another sharp turn, avoiding laser fire from the squadron of TIE fighters in hot pursuit. They'd sustained several direct hits already, and even Han was starting to wonder if his trusty ship was ready to fall apart. The Imps' new flagship was a sight to behold, but Han had seen enough of it for a lifetime. Growling in frustration, Han toggled the comm switch. "Hey, kid, any time now!"

Luke's voice came through apologetically. "Sorry Han, we got held up. Turn to point oh-seven; we'll take care of the TIEs and escort you out."

"Gladly." As Han turned the _Falcon_ as requested, he saw six X-wings approaching from behind. Several of the pursuing TIEs were vaped immediately, and their green laser fire finally stopped crossing the _Falcon_'s hull. Han breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Luke's X-wing peel off from the others and close up with the ship, the other five snubfighters quickly demolishing the remaining TIEs.

"Are there any other transports on their way?" Luke asked. "We lost communication with the base."

Han grimaced, dreading his next words. "Sorry, kid, but I don't think anyone else is making it off."

Han could hear Luke's protest before it even began. "But there's only one ship out here, we can hold 'em off in time—"

"Imperial troops are on the ground, Luke. Sorry, but you better make the jump right behind us if you want to get out of here alive."

After a few seconds, Luke sighed. "You're right," he admitted begrudgingly. "Go ahead and jump; we'll see you at the rendezvous. May the Force be with you."

"Yeah, you too, kid." Toggling the switch again, Han turned to his co-pilot. "Alright Chewie, punch it."

The stars outside the cockpit turned to lines, then the swirling patterns of hyperspace. Han leaned back in his chair in relief and pushed up his sleeves. "See, Princess?" he said, turning around to look smugly at the woman sitting behind him, with her arms crossed over her chest. "Nothing to it."

"Yes, well. It's a good thing Luke and the Rogues were there to bail you out." Without another word, she rose from her chair and exited the cockpit.

"What the—?" Han sputtered. After a moment, he hurled a stray datapad against the cockpit door. "And you be quiet!" he added, trying futilely to quiet Chewbacca's guffaws.

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Luke watched the _Millennium Falcon _disappear into hyperspace, feeling both relief that his friends had escaped and dread that he and his Rogues had no choice but to follow. Han was right; with Imperial troops on the ground, there was no way any other transports would be able to launch.

The Alliance had been prepared for an attack, but Intelligence had estimated that the attack would not come for several more days. They had hoped that the base would be fully evacuated by then, but they woke up to a surprise that morning: a group of Star Destroyers entering the system. Thankfully, the fleet had come out of hyperspace far away from Yavin IV, alerting the Alliance to the impending assault. General Dodonna's staff had managed to calculate hyperspace coordinates that would allow the few remaining transports to get around the blockade, and had stayed on the moon to direct the evacuation. As much as Luke wanted to stay behind to assist in the general's escape, he knew that the Rogues had to leave now if they were going to survive.

But that didn't mean Luke had to like the decision. He hated it. But he'd come to learn that, in the military, such decisions were often necessary to preserve the lives and freedom of many others.

After the final TIEs had been eliminated, Luke gave the command for the Rogues to jump to hyperspace. "You ready back there, Artoo?" His astromech droid blew an affirmative, almost encouraging, twitter.

With one last glance at the jungle moon, Luke pushed the hyperspace lever in his cockpit and silently asked forgiveness from all those he'd left behind.

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On the jungle moon of Yavin IV, Darth Vader strode through the abandoned Rebel base with singular purpose. General Veers had informed him that his troops had captured the base's leader, along with several other higher-ranking officers. It did not matter to Vader in the slightest that most of the base's personnel had already evacuated. As long as there was someone to interrogate, his mission would be a success. It still baffled Vader that Imperial Intelligence had not yet uncovered the name of the Rebel pilot that had destroyed the Death Star. He smiled to himself under his helmet, knowing that he would not fail his master in the way Isard had.

When Vader entered the base's command center, the aging Rebel general was slumped against the wall, blood dripping from a vicious wound on his head. Vader turned sharply to Veers, who was standing in observance, but did not reprimand him; it was clear through the Force that the Rebel was still coherent enough to be interrogated. The Sith Lord dismissed Veers and the other officers, wanting to interrogate the prisoner alone.

Leaning down to face the man, Vader reached out with the Force. "What is your name?"

The man opened his mouth several times, clearly trying to resist the pressure on his mind. But it was futile. "Dodonna," he croaked.

Vader recognized that name: General Dodonna, the Rebellion's so-called Minister of War, who had fought in the Clone Wars. Surely he would know the information Vader sought. "The pilot who destroyed the Death Star," he rumbled. "Is he here?"

Dodonna's head moved slowly back and forth. "Escaped…told him to get out…while he still could…"

Vader's fist clenched in anger, but he pushed aside the emotion, focusing on the man in front of him. He reached out further into the Force. "I want his name."

"Can't…give that…to you. He is hope…"

"You will tell me his name!" Vader roared. At the same time, his fist clenched again, and Dodonna began to choke. The general's eyes widened in fear but he remained defiant, shaking his head "no."

With no other option, Vader reached into the Force and _pushed_ himself into the other man's brain. Dodonna screamed in agony and for a moment Vader thought he would remain silent until the end…

But unable to resist Vader's probe, he whispered two words: "Luke…Skywalker…"

Then, there was silence.

Vader stood abruptly, unable to believe what he was hearing. "You _lie!_" he snarled. But he knew it was the truth. He could read it in the general's mind, could feel it through the Force. The man was telling the truth.

"No lie…" he said. "He will be a Jedi…like his father…Empire will fall…"

With a roar, Vader grabbed the man by the throat and slammed him against the wall. Dodonna immediately crumpled to the floor, lifeless.

The Sith Lord stood over the body for a long time, silently brooding. _Like his father…_like _him_…

How could that be possible? They had died…both of them…he'd seen the holos! He would have known if he had a son…how could he not have known?

_He will be a Jedi…_ His son…a Jedi, like he had once been? He thought back to the duel in the Death Star's corridors, when he had slain Kenobi and the Rebels had escaped. There had been a boy there…a boy in desert clothes with familiar blond hair… And the pilot he'd chased through the Death Star's trench had _shone_ through the Force…

And Vader knew it was true.

His son lived. Kenobi had stolen him and warped him against his own father. He was a Rebel, and must now die. What other options were there—?

_Empire will fall…_

No. Not the Empire, Vader realized, the implications sending shivers down his spine.

The _Emperor._

The Jedi had told Vader he was the Chosen One, the most powerful Jedi of all, and now he had a son. A son, with as much potential for power as his father. After Mustafar, Vader was not strong enough to stand alone against the Emperor…

But with a son…with a son, they would be unstoppable.

When he returned to his flagship, Lord Vader informed his master that the Rebel base had been destroyed in an impressive demonstration of the _Executor_'s power. But, most unfortunately, there had been no survivors from which to extract the name of the pilot who had destroyed the Death Star.


	5. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Mara Jade stood in the hallway outside the Throne Room, waiting for an audience with her master. But unlike the last time she had been summoned to this place, she was more than eager to report to to the Emperor and receive her new orders. For the past three months she'd been stuck inside the Palace like a caged animal, eager to resume her duties as the Emperor's Hand and escape the monotony of Palace life. She enjoyed her days of physical activity, training in her private practice hall, but her days of action had unfortunately been punctuated by dull, boring nights attending Court. The Emperor had required her presence every night, and despite her displeasure, she obeyed his command as always. Before she had become the Emperor's Hand, Mara had never objected to attending Court, and she had considered each appearance to be a necessary part of her training. But in the past three months, she hadn't even been tasked with the opportunity to _do_ something while attending Court, such as track a mark for the Emperor or even resume her old role as a dancer. Instead Mara had been forced to make idle chatter with members of the Royal Houses, pretending to be some vapid little girl and feeling like she was dressed up for some sort of masquerade. It took every last bit of her training to suppress the scowl that threatened to permanently overtake her face as a result of her ever-increasing frustrations.

Finally, when she feared she would not be able to handle one more evening with some arrogant, self-indulgent Academy graduate trying to woo her with his most unimpressive claims of power, Mara had been summoned by her master. Still clad in the jumpsuit that she wore for weapons training, she ran all the way to the Throne Room, not even bothering to stop by her quarters.

Mara remained stoic when Sate Pestage, one of the Emperor's closest aides, exited the Throne Room. They nodded to each other politely and Pestage gestured for Mara to go inside. She remained in place, however, refusing to move until she heard her master's call.

_Come._

Giving Pestage another bow, she practically glided across the opulent Throne Room and fell gracefully to her knee before her master. She could feel Palpatine's amused stare, as he sensed her anxiety and desire to get out of the Palace. Mara quickly clamped down on those emotions, forcing herself to remain calm and collected in front of her Emperor.

"Rise, my child," he instructed. "I sense that you are ready to serve me again."

Mara nodded, and spoke out, "I am always serving you, master."

The Emperor openly smiled at that, and his approval washed over their bond. "Yes you are, my child. Very good." She immediately felt embarrassed for her negative attitude about attending Court. As the Emperor's Hand, she should be able to accomplish any task without discomfort. Her feelings and emotions were irrelevant. Perhaps her stay at the Palace was the Emperor's way of reminding her of that fact.

Mara glanced up and met the Emperor's gaze; he stared intently at her, as if sensing the thoughts swirling inside her head. She immediately cleared her mind and focused only on the man in front of her. A moment later he smiled again and reached out his hand. "Come closer, Mara," he ordered. "I have a very special assignment for you."

Her breath caught in her throat as she followed her master's command. Very rarely did he use her real name, only when he was granting her an important task or commendation.

"I have been carefully considering your concerns about Alderaan. I have come to the conclusion that you are correct; defections are inevitable and they must be quashed before the Rebellion profits from our losses. Therefore, I will be sending you to take care of such treason."

"_Me_, master?" Mara gasped, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice. Vader had suggested that Palpatine would send her to take care of the traitors as a result of Alderaan, but she hadn't taken him seriously. The Emperor tasked Mara to deal with threats to the Empire, but _never_ the Rebels. That was Vader's arena, and Mara had no desire to infringe on Vader's mandate. But now her master was sending her to take care of defectors, who were Rebels in all but name. Again Mara felt an immense sense of pride, that the Emperor would trust her enough to send her on such an important mission.

"Of course, my child. You were brave enough to be honest with me about your concerns, and I always reward such honesty and ambition. You have been one of my most trusted servants and I know you will not disappoint me."

"Thank you, master," Mara said, bowing her head reverently, still overwhelmed at this assignment, and more eager than ever to leave the Palace and get started on her mission.

"And you will soon enough," the Emperor replied. Mara blushed, embarrassed that she had been caught with her shields down. She immediately corrected her mistake, and the Emperor nodded in approval. "For now, child, you will prepare for your mission. You will use my library to conduct your research. You have the freedom to go about your task in any way you deem necessary."

"Thank you, master. I won't fail you."

"I never believed that you would, Mara. Now, go and prepare for your mission. You will report to me before you leave."

"Yes, master." Mara bowed again and exited the Throne Room, heading towards Palpatine's private research facility. She knew why he had granted her such a privilege. Even though Mara could slice into any Imperial computer system in seconds, if she used standard search parameters then her search would eventually be uncovered by those in Intelligence or the secretive Security Bureau. It appeared that the Emperor wanted Mara's mission, along with her existence, to remain carefully hidden for the time being.

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Darth Vader sat alone in the Emperor's private library, staring intently at the data on the computer terminal in front of him. He had already known it was true, but now he had the confirmation he desired: Luke Skywalker was, without a shadow of a doubt, his son.

Considering his dishonesty to the Emperor about knowing the boy's identity, one might think that performing his research in the Emperor's library was a foolhardy move, but Vader knew better. Any query made from the _Executor_ would be an automatic red flag for his master. And Vader knew ways to mask his search so that the Emperor would find his stay in the library to be nothing more than general information gathering on the Rebels, as Vader was prone to do whenever he was on Imperial Center.

And more than that, Vader knew that Palpatine would be indisposed for several hours, having audiences with several aides, followed by Vizier Sate Pestage, and then his precious Hand, Mara Jade. If his master _did_ decide to check up on him later on, he would find his false search records and nothing at all indicating that Vader was, in fact, looking for information on a Rebel named Luke Skywalker.

Vader was not so foolish as to search for the name directly. Instead he called up Outer Rim data files, narrowing down information first to the Arkanis sector, then the Tatoo system. He searched records from the most populous settlements, including Mos Espa and Mos Eisley, but found no matches. Finally, he widened his search to include the smaller settlements outside of Mos Eisley, where he had once visited in another lifetime.

And then he found it—absolute, undeniable proof: Luke Skywalker, human male, born almost twenty years ago, no known parents, adopted child to Owen Lars and Beru Whitesun.

All Vader could think was that they hadn't even changed his name. They didn't have to, because Vader would never have thought to look for a son—why would he? His child had died, along with its mother. And of course, even if he had suspected…he would never have thought to look _there._

His old master had known him so well.

Vader was lost in thought when he heard the door to the library slide open. Sensing who was approaching, he quickly erased the records on his screen and masked his search. Then he abruptly rose from his chair just in time to see the Emperor's Hand enter the library.

She paused momentarily, her shock at his appearance evident, but managed to immediately compose herself. Vader gave her credit for that, at least.

"Lord Vader," she said politely as she stepped towards him, her eyes flickering to the display screen behind him, but of course there was nothing there for her to see.

"Emperor's Hand." His displeasure that she had interrupted him was clear both in his greeting and through the Force. But she still did not flinch.

"The Emperor has granted me permission to do some research," she explained, answering his unspoken question.

"I am so pleased to hear," Vader replied, sarcasm dripping behind his deep tones. Mara's expression twitched ever so slightly.

"I'm glad, Lord Vader. I hope that when you hear my new assignment, you will not change your opinion."

Vader did not care one whit about whatever task she'd been given, but he decided to play along. "Is that so? Why would your next assignment concern me?"

She stared him straight in the eye—as much as she could through his helmet. She was definitely a bold one. "The Emperor has tasked me to eliminate defectors."

"Ah. So it appears my prediction was correct. Congratulations, Emperor's Hand." Vader's tone was still sarcastic and now mocking, knowing that it would frustrate the girl to no end—and also knowing that she would never rise to his bait. She knew that angering Lord Vader was a good way to earn the swift disapproval of their master.

"I was surprised, to be honest. Hunting the Rebels has always been your arena."

Ah, so that was her concern; she was still trying her hardest to get into Vader's good graces, and was worried that her new assignment would trouble him. She needn't worry; Vader disliked her for many reasons, but never because he questioned whether their master favored her over him. He was a Sith, after all; she was a mere assassin, no matter what special title she'd been given.

"They are defectors, Emperor's Hand," he reminded her. "_Not_ Rebels."

"They will be if they are successful."

Vader stepped forward until he was mere centimeters from the girl and stared down at her imposingly. Even as he placed a gloved finger on her cheek, her controlled facade still did not crack…

Until Vader leaned down to whisper, "In that case, you should take care that you are the one who is successful, Emperor's Hand. I have no desire to clean up your mess." Her eyes widened as he caressed her cheek ever so slightly…

And then he swept out of the room, leaving her to stand alone.

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Silently seething, Mara stared at the Dark Lord's receding form. She was still clueless as to why he was so hostile towards her. She had never done anything to offend him, had never gotten in the way of his work, had never been rude or challenged him. And yet he treated her worse than he did any other random Imperial officer. It was maddening!

And worst of all was that Mara would never dare take her concerns to her master, for fear that he would believe her incapable of solving her own problems. And she refused to allow this issue with Vader to become a problem. She had her work to do, and he had his.

She heard the door close behind him. "Thank you for the advice, Lord Vader," she muttered to herself.

Taking a seat at her preferred computer terminal, she called up a search program and got to work. The Emperor had tasked her with finding and eliminating defectors, and the best way she knew to do that was to infiltrate their ranks and gain a position on a Star Destroyer.

It appeared that her endless nights at Court had served a purpose, after all. Mara had become aware of discontented rumblings among the fleet. Nobody would say it outright, for fear of immediate execution, but it was clear to Mara's trained ear that higher ranking officers in the Navy had not been pleased by the Emperor's precious Death Star. As such, Mara believed that she would be more likely to uncover mass defections in the fleet, rather than in the Army or among civilians.

So she had determined her strategy; now it was time to determine which Destroyer to infiltrate. After a few moments, the answer came to her. It was elegant in its simplicity, and that was its genius: she needed to find the ship with the highest number of Alderaanian officers.

She keyed her search, setting the parameters to find crew members that had been born on Alderaan or had one or more family members with Alderaanian backgrounds. Alderaanians were known as an inherently peaceful people, but there were still plenty of them in the military, and she soon had her answer.

The Star Destroyer _Accuser._

She propped her chin on her fist, deep in thought, wondering about her next move. The _Accuser_ had been recently assigned to Death Squadron, which could be very problematic. She did not want to come into contact with Vader during her mission. But when she checked the _Accuser_'s upcoming schedule, it appeared that it was due to separate from the rest of Vader's fleet and begin its own tour of duty.

Connecting her datapad to the computer terminal, Mara began to copy the _Accuser_'s database, considering how to proceed with her infiltration. She'd been trained in espionage and was well trained in Imperial military procedures, so she did not doubt her ability to fit in. The fact that she was female might gain some suspicion, but there were enough women in the military that it would not immediately ruin her chances.

What she needed to do was find the most likely person to lead a defection among the crew and gain his confidence. She needed someone with an Alderaanian background—preferably someone born on the planet himself—and who had ties to the planet until its destruction. She needed someone who had been out of the academy several years, but not old enough to have become fully entrenched in Imperial life.

After an hour of searching, she found the perfect candidate: Tycho Celchu, a TIE fighter pilot.

Celchu was twenty-one years of age, had graduated from the academy not long ago, and was born on Alderaan. His parents were wealthy, and it was reported that he had assaulted a fellow cadet after the cadet had insulted his Alderaanian heritage.

And most interesting of all, he had attended the academy with Biggs Darklighter and Derek Klivian, two known defectors who had taken over the _Rand Ecliptic _and joined the Rebel Alliance.

Mara could only assume that Celchu had refused to defect with his classmates, and now, after Alderaan's destruction, was regretting that decision. Indeed, he was the perfect candidate to lead a defection.

Her data transfer complete, Mara disconnected her datapad and began to input queries to Intelligence. She had no personal records in standard Imperial databases, so it would be simple for her to create a new identity. She'd use her real name—there was no reason for her to change it, and her reactions would be more realistic that way—but everything else would be fabricated. Within minutes, she'd become Mara Jade of Alderaan, recent academy graduate, TIE fighter pilot, newly transferred to the _Accuser_.

She leaned back in her chair and smiled. Celchu was slightly older than she, so it would be easy for her to fall into a "little sister" type of role and gain his trust. And after she had joined his group of defectors, she would strike and eliminate the treason once and for all.

Mara grabbed her datapad and turned to leave the library. She was more than a capable pilot, but she still wanted to get in some simulator practice before leaving for the _Accuser_.

But before she could leave, her attention turned to the computer terminal directly behind her—the one Lord Vader had been using. Her curiosity gaining the best of her, Mara took a seat at his station and attempted to call up the last program he'd used, but of course Vader had covered his tracks well. To the untrained eye, he had been doing innocent research on the Rebels, but Mara knew better. And there was a computer trick the Dark Lord might not how to block...

Sure enough, he didn't. Punching in the proper code, Mara pulled up the last file that had been accessed from the terminal.

He had been searching personnel records from the Outer Rim territories, careful never to input the exact search term, but instead narrowing down the results until he finally found what he had been looking for.

Her immediate thought was that Vader was searching for Prince Xizor's Black Sun connections again, and that the Emperor was going to be very annoyed that he was diverting his efforts from finding the Rebels. But to her surprise, the last file he'd been examining—and for a rather long time, according to the computer's records—contained information on a person she'd never heard of before.

Luke Skywalker.

Mara frowned, searching her memory, wondering if she had somehow forgotten that name, if he was one of the eager young officers she had met and later tried to forget in Court recently. But her memory was impeccable, and she was sure that she had never heard that name before. What could Vader want with this person?

She shook her head, ignoring that thought. She had her work to do, and Vader's interests were of no consequence to her. It would be best for her to forget that she'd ever checked up on him.

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Deep inside the catacombs of the planet Thila was the perfect location for a Rebel base, but living deep underground gave Leia Organa the creeps. She didn't like being stuck in a place where the Empire could sneak up on her. Sure, the base's commanders assured her that they had highly capable surveillance and security teams constantly on the lookout for impending attacks, but her nerves were still frayed at all times.

Nobody else seemed to be as disturbed by the base's location as she was, and that bothered her even more. Sure, there were leaders who wanted to stay mobile for security purposes, but they had no problem with the inherent location with the Thila base. It seemed like she was the only person bothered by living deep underground...except that wasn't entirely accurate—Luke had been on edge since they'd moved into the base, and had ordered Rogue Flight to be on patrol rotation at all times. Leia couldn't help but wonder why she and Luke were the only two people on base who wanted to get out of the mountains as soon as possible.

It was nearing the end of Leia's first Alliance Command meeting since before the Battle of Yavin, and she was more than ready to leave the briefing room and enjoy a nice, quiet evening to herself. She had been a member of Alliance High Command since before Alderaan, but since her father's death, she felt as if she had taken his place among the Alliance leadership. She struggled every day to fill the immense void he'd left in the group, and she often felt that she would never be able to succeed. She knew she had to keep herself from getting too stressed and having a nervous breakdown before the age of twenty-one.

Leia sighed and readjusted her focus as Mon Mothma, Commander in Chief of the Rebel Alliance, was about to bring up the topic on the agenda that most interested Leia—finding a permanent base. While some of the other Alliance leaders seemed comfortable here, others wanted to stay mobile or find a new base for security purposes.

"Now, with all that taken care of, I'd like to entertain discussion on possibilities for a permanent base," Mon said, looking regal as always despite their primitive living conditions. She had been stationed on the Thila base before the Battle of Yavin, and Leia had not had a conversation with the woman since long before Alderaan. Before the meeting began, Mon had taken Leia aside and they'd had a long talk about everything and nothing at all. Talking with Mon had given Leia some comfort about her place in the Alliance. She had known the Chandrilan senator since she was a child, and had been somewhat of her apprentice when she'd joined the senate. Mon had also been a confidante when Leia's mother had died; in fact, she was one of the few people still alive who knew that Leia was adopted. (Leia had also confided in Luke about her family history, mainly because he had been adopted as well and she felt a kinship with him.) Leia was very grateful that a woman like Mon Mothma was leading the Alliance, especially after the deaths of her father and Jan Dodonna.

"I still fail to see why a new base is necessary, Chief Mothma," Wesk Ruk'fey, Mothma's Chief of Staff, stated. The Bothan's fur rippled gently as he spoke. "Thila Command has been operating safely for several years."

General Airen Cracken, newly appointed director of Intelligence, shook his head. "That is exactly the reason why we need to move before the Empire finds us. The longer we stay in one place at a time, the closer the Empire comes to finding us and wiping out the entire command structure. I still advocate keeping Alliance Command with the fleet on a permanent basis."

"I concur with General Cracken," the director of Fleet Command, Admiral Ackbar, agreed. A Mon Calamari, he had recently escaped from slavery to the deceased Grand Moff Tarkin. "The fleet would be the safest place for all of us in Alliance Command, especially you, Chief Mothma."

Carlist Rieekan, another High Councilor, spoke up from beside Leia. "I still do not believe that the fleet is strong enough to act as a mobile base. Until we can muster a considerable number more capital ships and snubfighters, we would be better off staying on a planetary base."

Leia listened to the debate with interest, still unsure of her opinion on the matter, even though she knew she wanted to leave Thila as soon as possible. On the one hand, the Death Star had demonstrated the inherent weakness in having Alliance Command stationed in one permanent location. However, General Rieekan was also correct; the Alliance fleet was not yet strong enough to defend against an attack. And if the Imperials were to find them, they'd be facing an attack by none other than Darth Vader's forces. The Alliance fleet might be capable of escaping Vader's grasp, but if he were able to lock them in one place, they would be annihilated.

"I appreciate your concerns, General Cracken and Admiral Ackbar. I agree that it would be a good idea to stay as mobile as possible; however, I also have to agree with General Rieekan. I believe that it would be best for the Alliance to operate out of a planetary base for the time being."

General Cracken nodded slowly, still disagreeing with Mon but respecting her decision. "If we are to establish a new base, I will have to insist on several parameters for security purposes."

"Of course, General Cracken. Please work on that and forward them to me as soon as possible. In the meantime, may I entertain any suggestions for the location of a new base?" Nobody made any suggestions; there were plenty of smaller Rebel bases throughout the galaxy, but nothing that jumped to Leia's mind as the ideal place to hide the majority of the Alliance forces. As such, she was startled when Mon asked for her opinion on the subject.

"Me, ma'am?" Leia stammered, feeling utterly foolish in front of the older, more experienced members of Alliance Command.

The older woman gave her an encouraging smile. "I'm sorry, Chief Mothma, nothing jumps to mind at the moment." Then she got an idea… "But I could ask for Rogue Flight to scout out possible locations while they're on supply runs."

"Excellent idea, Princess Leia," Admiral Ackbar said. "We should contact all the starfighter squadrons, and have them focus on the same task."

General Amun Bryl, a Sullustan and the director of Starfighter Command, chittered in agreement. "I will pass along the instructions to all squadron commanders."

"It's settled, then. Alliance Command will continue to operate from the Thila base until a suitable replacement for the Yavin IV base can be located. In the meantime, General Cracken will continue to update us on Imperial activity in the area, and in the event an evacuation is required, we will rendezvous at the fleet. Any objections?"

Nobody had any, so Leia began to gather up her belongings, but a cough from Mon Mothma kept her in her seat. "Unfortunately, we have one more piece of business to take care of before I can adjourn the meeting. With General Dodonna's death, we now have a vacant Minister of War position. I would like to entertain nominations to succeed him."

The mood in the briefing room turned somber as each member of Alliance Command took a moment of silence to honor General Dodonna. Then, Admiral Ackbar spoke up. "Chief Mothma, I would like to nominate General Rieekan. He has been one of the Alliance's most decorated leaders and is more than capable of taking such a position."

"And I would like to nominate Admiral Ackbar for the same reasons," General Rieekan replied.

"Duly noted. Any other nominations? No? In that case, I will entertain a vote. All those in favor of General Rieekan, please raise your hands." Thirteen hands, all but General Rieekan's, rose in the air. The middle-aged general shook his head in amused exasperation. "Alright, all those in favor of Admiral Ackbar, please raise your hands."

General Rieekan's two hands shot up in the air.

Mon gave him a cheeky smile. "I'm sorry, General Rieekan, but you've been outvoted thirteen to two. Congratulations, Minister." She stood up to shake his hand.

"Thank you for the honor, ma'am. I hope to do Jan proud."

"I'm sure you will, Carlist."

With that, Mon adjourned the meeting and everyone else in the room swarmed around General Rieekan to offer congratulations. Once Leia had spoken to him, she left the room in a hurry, wanting to speak to Luke about Rogue Flight's impending assignment.

To her complete surprise, she found Han Solo waiting outside the briefing room, lounging against the wall and looking utterly bored. He straightened up at her appearance and approached her casually. "Hey, Princess. How was the meeting?"

"Fine, thank you," she replied, eyeing him suspiciously. "Did you and Chewbacca have a successful supply run?"

"I'm standing here in one piece, aren't I?" Han returned, his trademark lopsided grin coming to his mouth. Leia found it hard not to smile back when he did that. "Anyway. Are you hungry? I haven't eaten yet. I thought we could catch up over dinner."

"Really?" Leia was honestly taken aback. Han was being nice to her? Had the nine Corellian hells frozen over? Or was he just really intoxicated? She leaned forward slightly; his breath didn't smell like alcohol, so she concluded that it had to be the former.

"Yes, really. What, you got something better to do?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. I need to speak to Luke about an upcoming assignment."

"Oh. Luke. Right. Well, sure thing, Princess. Enjoy your meal with _Luke_."

"Captain Solo!" she exclaimed. He turned around and glared at her, hands on his hips, and she stalked towards him until they were face to face. "_What _is your problem?"

"I don't got a problem, sweetheart. What's yours?"

"I don't have to stand here and listen to this." She gave an exasperated sigh and tried to turn away, but he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him. She felt her body flush at his touch and she mentally cursed herself for her involuntary reactions. She was a leader in the Rebel Alliance and yet she was allowing this scoundrel to affect her like she was some vapid schoolgirl. It was utterly embarrassing and had to stop!

"Just answer me one question, Princess. What's Luke got that I don't?"

"What?" Leia sputtered. "You're _jealous_? Of _Luke_?"

"Don't pretend you ain't noticed him mooning over you."

"We're friends, Captain Solo. That's all."

"Well, you might want to tell him that before he gets the wrong idea."

"This is ridiculous, Han! We're fighting a war! There are much more important things to worry about than personal relationships."

That lopsided grin came to Han's face again, and he leaned against the wall, practically gloating. "What?" Leia questioned, suddenly guarded.

His smile grew even bigger, and he leaned in, placing his hand on her shoulder. "You called me Han."

Leia blanched, realizing her mistake. She had told herself that as long as she called him Captain Solo their relationship would remain strictly formal. She cursed herself again and pushed away his hand. "Yes, so? That is your name, is it not?"

"Sure…Leia." Han brushed past her and sauntered down the hallway; Leia went to call out to him, but he turned around before she could open her mouth. "You go have a good dinner with Luke." He winked at her, and then he was gone.

After several moments, Leia let out a frustrated scream and began to stalk towards the mess.

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"Hey Luke, come sit down, we're taking bets!" Wes Janson called, waving Luke over to the table where the rest of Rogue Flight was eating dinner.

"What's going on?" Luke asked as he began to shovel food down his throat. Wes glared at him incredulously for a short moment—all of the Rogues seemed to be perpetually amused at Luke's voracious appetite—then shook his head and pointed at Hobbie.

"We're taking bets on how many times Hobbie's gonna have to get dipped in bacta before he turns twenty-five. I say fourteen."

"And I say that you are way underestimating," Wedge interjected. "Have you _seen_ Hobbie's medical records?"

"Thanks, guys. Thanks a lot." The Ralltiir native had become to brunt of Wes' jokes since joining the Rogues, and the other pilots had swiftly followed suit. Even the normally quiet Zev Senesca couldn't resist a round of Hobbie-baiting. Luke had been tempted to put a stop to it at first, worried that it would damage Hobbie's morale, but to his surprise it seemed that the pessimistic pilot actually didn't mind being the brunt of their jokes. Perhaps he was destined to be the dour one.

"Ah, don't worry Hobbie. I'm sure it won't be more than ten times," Dack Ralter said. The youngest Rogue, he was even more exuberant than Luke, something that Wedge had admitted he didn't think could be possible. Luke knew he was still seen as an optimistic, somewhat naïve farm boy among others in the Alliance, but he knew that his experience as a commander and his history in battle was already starting to harden him. He would never allow himself to lose his optimistic characteristics, and would always strive to see the good in people, but he would never be as innocent as he'd been the day before he found his aunt and uncle's dead bodies outside his old homestead.

Luke did his best to smile at the other Rogues' banter, but could feel that familiar fog of guilt starting to hover over him, and knew there was little he could do to stop it. Perhaps when dinner was over he would try to get in some lightsaber practice. Maybe that would take his concentration off his guilt.

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As soon as she walked into the mess, Leia could tell that Luke was in a bad mood. He was surrounded by his pilots, but seemingly closed off to the rest of the galaxy. Lieutenant Janson was ribbing Lieutenant Klivian about something ridiculous, causing uproarious laughter from the other Rogues—all but Luke, who was smiling quietly into his glass to feign interest, but his eyes were distant and unfocused, betraying his true feelings. Lieutenant Antilles kept trying to pull his best friend into the conversation, but it was to no avail. Of course Luke, wanting to be a supportive and engaged commanding officer even in his foul mood, refused to leave the mess until all his pilots were finished eating. Eventually they began to trickle out of the room, leaving Luke alone at the table, silently brooding.

Leia took a deep breath and crossed the room, seating herself in the chair across from Luke. He was so lost in thought that he didn't even notice her. It wasn't until Leia reached over and stole a sip from his drink that he finally glanced up, startled. "Oh, hi, Leia. Sorry, I didn't see you come in."

"So I noticed." She had come to talk to him about the Rogues' new mandate, but his poor mood became her first concern. "Is everything alright, Luke?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?" Luke said automatically.

"Because I know you. Something's the matter. Come on, you can tell me," she prodded, placing her hand over his comfortingly. Luke glanced down at their hands for a moment, then sighed.

"I'm supposed to be a Jedi, and I can't even tell when my friend is sneaking up on me," he mumbled, chastising himself.

Leia arched a brow. "Is that really what this is about, Luke?"

He sighed heavily. "Not really. But I _am_ supposed to be a Jedi…and yet I let all those people die. Maybe I just don't have what it takes."

"What people?" Leia questioned. She knew that Luke had grown depressed days after the Death Star's destruction, suddenly realizing that he had been responsible for the deaths of every Imperial soldier on that battle station. He knew that not everyone on board was evil, or deserved to die. Many of them were innocent young men, like himself, merely doing their jobs as ordered.

But Leia had experienced the worst survivor's guilt of all in the Alliance, and she had comforted Luke to the best of her ability, reminding him that the Death Star needed to be destroyed for the greater good. Luke had eventually come around, accepting his responsibility as well as the necessity of his act, but now Leia wondered if he was falling back into his old guilt.

Apparently, that was not the case. "General Dodonna," Luke whispered, running his hand through his hair. "Everyone else on the base. Only three transports got through…the _Falcon_ was one of them…the rest of them were killed. We could have gotten them out, Leia. The Renegades were there, too, and Gold Squadron…we could have gone back and helped them—"

"And what good would that have done?" Leia cut him off. "You were six snubfighters; you really think you could have taken out Vader's forces? Luke, you're a wonderful pilot—all of you are! But this is war, and sacrifices have to be made. You didn't _let_ General Dodonna, or anyone else in the base, die. They stayed behind to make sure everyone else got out safely. Don't trivialize their sacrifices by blaming yourself."

At first, Leia thought Luke was going to continue protesting, but then he sighed, again looking embarrassed. "You're right, Leia. I guess I just still hate all this fighting."

"You will _always_ hate the fighting, but that's what makes you Luke Skywalker. I would fear for the galaxy if you ever stop."

Luke looked up gratefully, and the two shared a tender smile. Leia once again leaned over to take Luke's hand. "And I know one other thing about you, Luke: if you had to sacrifice yourself for the greater good, you would…wouldn't you?"

He didn't even hesitate to answer. "Of course."

Leia squeezed his hand and grinned. "And you say you don't have what it takes to be a Jedi. Now cheer up; Chief Mothma's got another task for you Rogues."


	6. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

"Did you see Jade today?"

"No, is she here?"

"Right over there—sitting by herself in the corner. Looking fine as usual."

"Oh…yeah. Mmm, she looks _hot_ in that flight suit."

"You haven't seen her in her officer's uniform. Her skirt is nice and short…I'd kill to get my hands on her…"

"_Hands?_ That's not what _I_ want to get on her."

Unable to take anymore, Mara pushed back from the table in disgust. The group of officers thought they'd be safe talking about her from halfway across the room, but they didn't realize that she was able to augment her hearing through the Force. Not that they would care if she heard them, anyway. She grabbed her tray and headed for the waste receptacle, taking a path that led directly behind the group she'd been eavesdropping on. As she walked past them she moved closer and wiggled her hips, enticing them to reach out and grab her…

One of them was stupid enough to try. As he leaned towards her, Mara used the Force to lift up the corner of his chair ever so slightly. Caught unawares, the sorry excuse for an Imperial lost his balance and fell flat on his face.

Mara feigned surprise, then turned around and backpedaled a few steps. "You should be more careful," she said sweetly, raising her voice over the roaring laughter.

She left the mess and leaned against the wall, breathing slowly and trying to force the anger inside her to dissipate before heading off to her TIE. She had been onboard the _Accuser_ for three months, and it seemed that every day she learned something new about the Empire.

Things she had never wanted to learn.

The sexist comments had begun an soon as she stepped foot on the Destroyer. She'd expected them, as women were still very rare in the Imperial military, but she also expected them to die down once she proved herself as a pilot. After all, the Empire that she knew had no problem recognizing women who excelled at their jobs. Iceheart was proof of that, as was her own title of Emperor's Hand.

It appeared that the men on this ship never received that memo.

It took a month before she realized that the comments were never going to stop. This was what being a woman in the Empire was like. She vowed to bring this to the Emperor's attention as soon as she finished her mission and returned to the Palace. He would be most unhappy that some of the Empire's best assets were being treated so poorly.

It took two months for her to realize that the Empire she knew so well was nothing like the Empire that existed in the rest of the galaxy. As the Emperor's Hand, she commanded respect and resources just by quoting a simple recognition code. The rest of the Empire was not nearly as efficient. Perhaps things were different on Vader's flagship, but on a standard fleet Destroyer such as the _Accuser_, bureaucracy reigned supreme. It was frustrating and needed to be changed. The Emperor would definitely learn of the military's inefficiencies once Mara returned to Imperial Center.

It took three months for Mara to wonder if she really, truly belonged in this Empire, a thought that staggered her to the core. The reason for her questioning came from a source she would have never expected: Tycho Celchu.

It appeared that she had made the worst possible choice when deciding who to befriend and later betray. Tycho was loyal, honorable, an extremely competent pilot, well liked among his peers, and well respected by his superiors. He was the ideal Imperial officer, exactly the kind of man that the Empire needed.

And he was going to join the Rebels.

What did that say about the Empire, that someone like Tycho had lost faith? If someone like him could want to defect…couldn't anyone?

His viewpoint wasn't difficult for Mara to understand, and that was what disturbed her the most. The Empire's attitude towards women was disgusting. The abuses she'd been forced to participate in were overwhelming. She'd attacked the remains of Rebel bases and killed innocent civilians who happened to live nearby. She'd executed Rebel sympathizers who could have easily been brought into custody. As the Emperor's Hand, she killed out of necessity. As an Imperial officer, she killed to incite fear.

And of course, there was Alderaan, the topic of conversation that would never truly go away.

And yet she was still prepared to go through with her mission. She was in regular contact with the Emperor to inform him of her progress. She had gained Tycho's trust and had been invited to defect to the Alliance with him and several of his friends. She'd participated in their secret meetings and knew that as soon as she knew their definitive plans, she'd turn right around and give them to the Emperor.

Tycho had become a genuine friend, and she was going to betray him. He was a traitor, and that's what she did—she took care of traitors. She didn't know how she'd be able to look him in the eye after he'd been brought into custody. She hoped that she could disappear before that happened.

This was exactly what her instructors had warned her against—getting close to a mark. Getting personally involved. She was a servant of the Emperor, trained to carry out his will without question. She needed to remind herself of that fact. She needed to finish her mission as planned and go back to the life she knew.

But on the beginning of her fourth month infiltrating the Imperial fleet, the Emperor's Hand began to wonder if the life she thought she knew had ever been real at all.

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"Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"Tycho, you've asked me that question every week for the past month. It's beginning to get really annoying."

"And I'm going to keep asking until it's over, just to make sure."

Mara rolled her eyes. Her plan to establish herself in a little sister role had been an overwhelming success. Tycho had grown extremely protective of her since she told him she wanted to defect with his group. He constantly asked her how she was holding up. She'd even heard that he'd gotten into several altercations on Mara's behalf. Apparently he also didn't appreciate the way other officers spoke about her.

_He's a defector,_ Mara repeated to herself. _He's a traitor. You take care of traitors. That's what you do. You're the Emperor's Hand._

He's a traitor.

She took a deep breath. _But he's my friend._

She knew that she should leave, and get away from all this while she still had her head on straight. But then what would she tell her master? She had vowed to never fail him. And despite everything that had happened in the past several months and everything that she had learned, she clung desperately to that vow. It was the only thing that could keep her grounded. She might be disillusioned with the Empire, but she still had faith in her master. She couldn't fail him, no matter what.

"Mara?"

She turned and met Tycho's blue eyes, searching her own. "Yes. I'm sure. I'm sure I want to do this."

She was no longer disturbed by how easily the lies came.

Tycho nodded. "Don't worry; it won't be too long now." He wouldn't say more while they were still in the _Accuser_'s public areas. They walked in silence until they got to the restricted area—Mara still hadn't figured out how Tycho had gotten access—and entered an empty mechanical room. It was the perfect place for a meeting with defectors. Mara had snuck inside on her own one night to sweep for listening devices that the others might not have caught, but had found nothing. She had briefly considered planting her own bug, but didn't want to risk someone uncovering it and then scratching their defection plan. Besides, she didn't need listening devices to remember what went on in these meetings. She would never be able to forget.

The door closed behind them and Mara tried to make herself comfortable on the hard floor. Across from her and Tycho sat the other two defectors, Zurel Darillian and Rade Ticarus, also TIE fighter pilots. Darillian, similar to the Mara in her cover story, had recently graduated from the academy and had many close friends from Alderaan. Like Tycho, Ticarus had been stationed on the _Accuser_for several years and had been born on Alderaan. Ticarus was fortunate, however; his family had been off planet when Tarkin had decided to turn the Death Star against Alderaan.

Mara had never gotten Tycho's entire story out of him. All he would say was that his family had died on Alderaan, but she knew there was more to it. There had to be, to make such a loyal Imperial want to defect from the Empire.

"Next week," Tycho began without preamble. Mara and the others leaned forward in anticipation. "We make orbit at Commenor. All pilots will be granted twenty-four hours leave." He met each of their gazes in turn. "I can get us off Commenor before the leave is over."

"Where will we go from there?" Darillian asked. He was young and he was nervous, but he was certain that he was doing the right thing. Mara was almost jealous of him, for she had once held that same strength of conviction.

"Dantooine. I've been in contact with an old academy friend, who's now with the Rebellion. He's assured me that there will be an official Alliance group to meet us, just in case there's any trouble."

"Why should there be trouble?" Ticarus asked sharply. "You don't trust us?"

"We're defecting, Rade. I'm not going to take any chances. And if I didn't trust you, you wouldn't be in this room right now."

Mara studied her hands as if they were the most interesting things in the universe.

"This is the last chance we'll have to meet before we arrive at Commenor. If you have any doubts, now is the time." Tycho paused, but nobody spoke.

Mara continued to stare at her hands.

"Good. We'll meet outside the capital's main spaceport on Commenor. Good luck…and may the Force be with us."

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Luke sat in General Cracken's small office, which felt even smaller now that it was crowded with three additional chairs. Next to Luke sat Wedge, Hobbie, and Commander Narra. Cracken hadn't informed him what this meeting was all about, but judging by the look on his face, it was something very serious.

"Thank you for coming, gentleman," the Intelligence director started. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I called you here. Well, everyone except for Lieutenant Klivian, that is."

Luke turned to Hobbie, curious. "What's going on?"

Cracken nodded at Hobbie, indicating for him to speak. "I've been in contact with an old friend from the academy. It appears that he's changed his mind about defecting to the Alliance."

Luke and Wedge turned to each other, murmuring under their breath. For the past several months, recruiting defectors had become one of Alliance Command's favored strategies to undermine the Empire. It had been surprisingly easy; after Alderaan, there had been a good number of Imperials who decided that they could no longer live with the Empire's more horrific practices. It was still a relatively small percentage of the overall Imperial military force, but the ones who did defect brought with them expertise and intelligence that had proven to be priceless to the Alliance.

Rogue Squadron had been sent on several rendezvous missions with defectors, almost always accompanying Leia. To everyone's amusement, the Princess had taken to recruiting defectors as if it were the newest fad in galactic sports. For some reason, she was certain that she could convince even the most loyal Imperial to join the Alliance, if given enough time. Luke had to give her credit; she'd probably try to convert Darth Vader to their cause if she didn't despise him so much after Alderaan.

Glancing at his chrono, he briefly wondered why Leia wasn't participating in this meeting. Then he remembered that Han was due back from a supply run, and Leia had probably gone to meet him and help unload. Luke was still very close with Leia, and knew they'd always have a strong connection, no matter what happened. He could read her better than anyone through the Force. But in the recent weeks he had finally accepted that Leia was never going to see him as anything other than a friend. Maybe it was because she liked Han, maybe it was because she didn't want any distractions, or maybe it was because she thought of Luke like a brother—it didn't really matter. All that mattered was that he and Leia would always just be friends.

And to his surprise, he was absolutely fine with that revelation. After all, he had plenty of other things to be concerned about. A serious relationship would be a distraction.

Of course Wedge, being the exemplary executive officer that he was, immediately picked up on the shift in Luke's mood and decided to make it his life's work to get Luke a woman. Wedge didn't seem to care that he had no desire to "hook up" with any random girl and turned a bright shade of pink whenever the other Rogues discussed their seemingly endless sexual conquests. (Although Luke did believe that they were embellishing their stories just a tad.) He had punished his XO with an endless amount of kitchen duty…and by dragging him to this meeting, along with many others.

General Cracken's next words pulled Luke from his thoughts. "Intelligence has determined that Lieutenant Klivian's contact is genuine. Therefore, a team will be heading out to pick them up from Dantooine shortly."

"Sorry for not telling you before, boss, but I was under orders to keep quiet," Hobbie said, looking worried.

"Don't worry about it, Hobbs."

"Both the Rogues and Renegades are available for this mission. General Bryl has authorized one of your groups to accompany the pick-up team."

"We'll go," Luke volunteered automatically.

"Geez, Skywalker, you never even give the Renegades a chance!" Commander Narra teased.

Beside him, Wedge suppressed a laugh. Luke volunteered the Rogues for any mission presented to him, and he had earned a reputation among Starfighter Command as the eager farm boy willing to do any job for the Alliance. Thankfully, the rest of Rogue Flight shared the same spirit. _We're Rogues; we can do anything!_had become their rallying cry.

"Sorry Narra, but like I always tell you, the Rogues are faster than the Renegades."

Cracken raised a hand and smiled. "Alright, before it gets nasty in here, let's finish our preparations. Now Lieutenant Klivian, your contact will send a transmission after they take their leave, correct?"

"Yes, sir," Hobbie confirmed.

"Good. Once we establish contact, Intelligence will transmit them the rendezvous coordinates on Dantooine. You'll be heading out on escort duty in the next few days."

"Who will be the pick up team for this mission, general?" Luke asked.

"Princess Leia and Solo on the _Millennium Falcon._"

"Good." Luke preferred flying with Leia and Han more than anyone in the Alliance, even if they did tend to bicker senselessly. Thankfully, Luke would be far away from them during the journey, safe and sound in his X-wing.

"They'll be a group of four defectors. They're all TIE fighter pilots, so who knows, maybe you two can fight over them when they get here," Cracken said, nodding to Luke and Narra.

The two commanders shared a glance. "That should be fun," Narra grinned.

Luke grinned back. "I look forward to it."

"I've got nothing else, unless Lieutenant Klivian can think of anything?" Hobbie shook his head. "Then you're dismissed. Commander Skywalker, I'm transmitting all our information to your datapad."

"Thank you, general." The four pilots saluted and filed out of Cracken's office. Luke turned to Wedge as soon as they left. "Alright, my trusty XO, I'll let you inform the others that we have a pre-mission briefing tomorrow at 0900."

Wedge groaned. "Can't you make it a little bit later? Like, say, 1300?"

"Sure, I can do that. I can also make you wake up at 0600 and help with breakfast duty."

"On second thought, the 0900 briefing sounds fine. See you later, Luke." Wedge took off down the hallway with Hobbie, leaving Luke alone with Narra.

"Skywalker, I wanted to talk to you about Cracken's suggestion," Narra said.

"What? About fighting over the TIE pilots? I thought that was a joke."

"You know, I can never tell if you're serious or not when you say stuff like that. But yes, of course it was a joke. The Renegades have already expanded to a full squadron. Have you considered filling out your roster?"

Luke shrugged. "I hadn't really given it much thought, to be honest. We haven't gotten many new pilots."

"Well if these new ones check out, I can find you two additional bodies pretty easily. I know a lot of pilots who would give their right arm to be a member of Rogue Squadron."

"That's very nice to hear, but we already have Hobbie. We don't need another pilot prone to losing limbs."

Narra laughed. "Just give it some thought. Take a look through the records Cracken transmitted and see if you think they'd make a good fit."

"I will."

Luke said good-bye to his fellow squadron commander and walked back to his quarters, lost in thought. Once inside he pulled up Cracken's information and began to flip through it, idly considering Narra's words. Over the past six months, Rogue Flight had grown into a cohesive, competent group of pilots. Could they really take on six new members and become a full squadron? Was he up to the challenge? He had finally gotten used to leading six pilots…was he ready to take on the extra responsibility?

Once again he wondered what everyone saw in him, and why he didn't have the same confidence in his abilities as they did. There were times when he was extremely sure of himself—when he was flying, when he was practicing with his lightsaber and fell into one of his rare meditative states, when he was in the middle of a mission. Once in action, it was like a switch was flipped, and Luke knew exactly what to do.

But afterwards, he always questioned whether or not he could have done something better. Even when he knew he'd acted to the best of his ability, he still questioned himself. He wondered what it would take for him to be as confident as Leia. She was always in control. He was just very good at faking it.

Placing his datapad on his bunk, Luke took a deep breath. He stood up and unhooked the lightsaber from his belt. After a moment he thumbed on the switch and the blade _hiss_ed to life, sending a shiver down his spine. His weapon had once belonged to his father. Anakin Skywalker had wielded it in battle, and it had served him well. Luke closed his eyes and tried to imagine his father standing next to him, guiding him through exercises, teaching him about the Force just as Ben Kenobi had. How different would his life be if his father were still alive? Would he have more confidence? Would he feel more secure in his abilities as a pilot and as a Jedi?

Stepping out, he went through a few strikes and parries before closing down his weapon. It was pointless to think of such things. His father was dead, murdered by agents of the Empire…just like his aunt and uncle had been. Just like Leia's family. He had no control over the past. He could only concentrate on the future.

He plopped back down on his bunk and began to pour through Cracken's information. The four pilots had very good flying records and he made plans to put them through the sims as soon as possible. The leader of the group, Tycho Celchu, had attended the academy with Hobbie and Luke's late best friend, Biggs Darklighter. According to Hobbie, Tycho was a superior pilot. Luke didn't know anything about the other three pilots—Darrillian, Ticarus, and Jade—but their records showed them to be exemplary pilots as well. Squinting, Luke took a closer look at Jade's record. _Mara_ Jade…well _that _certainly was interesting. A female TIE fighter pilot? Luke hadn't been sure that such a thing even existed. Not that the Rebellion was any better. There was certainly a lack of female fighter pilots, a fact that troubled Luke deeply—but not for the reasons it troubled Janson. Perhaps that was about to change. Luke was more than willing to give Jade a chance to become the first female Rogue. He smiled to himself, imagining the competition that would rage among the other pilots for her affections.

That would be quite the show, indeed.


	7. Chapter 6

I just wanted to say a bit THANK YOU to everyone reading this story. I hope you are enjoying and continue to enjoy. :)

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><p><span>CHAPTER 6<span>

_Everything is settled, master._

_Very good. You will contact me when you have more specific rendezvous coordinates, and I will send my best troops to Dantooine to take care of the defectors. You have done very well, Mara._

_Thank you._ Mara felt the familiar approval wash over her bond with the Emperor, only now it did not fill her with pride as it once used to. She could sense her master's concern, and he reached out to touch her mind again.

_Something is troubling you._

Mara was nervous, but still felt no need to hide her feelings from the Emperor. As long as she performed her mission as planned, he would never know her misgivings about whether or not she could go through with it. She would, however, eventually need to tell him about her concerns regarding abuses in the fleet. Just like with her concerns about Alderaan, he was sure to give careful consideration to her misgivings.

_I am unhappy with the way things are run onboard the _Accuser_, master. I feel that the officers in charge are not living up to the high Imperial standards set by the Palace._

_I see. I am troubled to hear your concerns. I will, of course, have my aides look into this matter as soon as possible. And we will speak further on your return to Imperial Center._

_Yes, master. Thank you._

_I have faith in you, my child. I know you will not fail me._

Even knowing what her success would entail, Mara also knew she could never fail her master. She was the Emperor's Hand. It was against her nature to fail.

Without another word, Mara felt Palpatine's Force sense reach out in one last caress before gently pulling away. As with every other time they broke contact, she felt a tremendous sense of loss and was forced to lie back, breathing heavily to calm herself.

She was on her own again.

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Palpatine touched the girl one last time before withdrawing from their bond. He was pleased with her most recent report; she finally had received concrete information regarding the rendezvous location, and he was more than certain that his commandos could take care of three TIE fighter pilots and the small Rebel force sent to collect them. Perhaps the Rebels would even send Organa on this mission. Mara would certainly receive high commendations if her mission resulted in Organa's death.

Beside him, his apprentice shifted slightly, clearly looking for an invitation to speak, but Palpatine would not give it to him. There was too much at stake.

"You will take the _Executor _to Dantooine to take care of the defectors. Use whatever force necessary. Of course I do not need to remind you that my Hand is not to be damaged."

"Of course, master. The defectors…are they to be brought in alive?"

"Unnecessary. We need no information from them. My Hand has provided it all."

"I see." Vader paused; Palpatine could sense that his apprentice was debating whether to pose his next question. After several moments, he apparently decided that it was worth potentially angering his master. "If Mara Jade poses a threat, what is to be done?"

The Sith Master glared sharply at his apprentice, clearly demonstrating his disapproval at the way Vader referred to the girl. If her status was to remain firm in the Empire, such informalities were not to be tolerated. Vader recoiled under his gaze, but did not retract his question.

It was an irrelevant question, Palpatine knew. He had raised the girl from early childhood and had no question of her loyalty. If he had, he would never have sent her into the fleet. Yes, Mara was experiencing some doubts and had been presented with truths that had unsettled her. But this was all a test, one Palpatine was certain she would pass. His Hand would betray her associates and venture on to serve her master once more. She would be reminded that her feelings and emotions were inconsequential to the success of her missions. She would reaccept her place in the Empire and her mandate to protect it.

"She will not, Lord Vader," Palpatine finally responded. "I have faith in her to do her job."

"Yes, master." For a moment, Palpatine thought that Vader would drop the subject. But he did not. "And if she doesn't?"

He knew what Vader was asking—did he have permission to take her out if necessary? The Sith wasn't surprised. He had encouraged the contentious relationship since the first introduction between his apprentice and his Hand. Vader acted openly hostile towards the girl, while she constantly struggled to earn Vader's approval. It was necessary to make sure that none of his acolytes ever united against him.

The thought of Mara Jade turning against him was unfathomable, but Palpatine knew that Vader would not leave until he'd received what he desired. Deciding to placate his apprentice, Palpatine nodded. "You may do what is necessary. But take care," he added, his voice taking on a threatening tone. "She is precious to me. See that she is well-protected."

"Yes, master." Pleased with his instructions, Vader bowed and left the Throne Room. Palpatine settled back in his throne and smiled.

Everything was going as planned.

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The briefing room was obnoxiously bright, just the way Luke preferred.

He stood at the podium, absently shuffling stacks flimsiplast as his pilots began filing into the room. They performed to his expectations, yelling out and bringing up their arms to cover their eyes. Luke did his best not to laugh at them. No matter how many times the Rogues filed into early morning briefings, they had never learned to prepare themselves for the startling brightness. It was something that had first happened by accident, but now Luke made it a point to turn up all the lights before his pilots arrived. He blamed the eternal prankster Wes Janson for being a bad influence.

After Luke had his amusement for the morning, it was time to get down to business. "Listen up Rogues, we've got another pick-up scheduled for next week."

Wes's hand shot up in the air. "Ooh, where it is? Are we going to Mon Cal? Please tell me we're going to Mon Cal. They have beaches there!"

"Of course we're not going to Mon Cal, we're not nearly that lucky," Hobbie said.

"It's not Tatooine, is it?" Wedge asked. "I really don't do well in warm-weather climates."

"Speak for yourself, I could use a tan!" Wes countered. "The ladies love a tan."

"How would you know?" Dack retorted.

Luke let the pilots carry on for few more moments before moving on. "Alright children, settle down. Janson, I'm sorry, but we are not going to visit Ackbar's relatives."

"Dammit. I never get to have any fun on this job."

"Nor are we going to Tatooine, and I would encourage you to remember that your esteemed commander hails from Tatooine."

"Yeah, and you hated it there," Wedge reminded him.

It was a reminder that stung Luke; he'd always wanted to get off Tatooine. He'd finally gotten the chance, but it had cost his aunt and uncle their lives…and his innocence.

Well, there was no use dwelling on that. Luke shrugged. "I did. But anyway, if you can't go to Tatooine, why not go to the next best place?"

"You mean hell?"

"Very funny, Janson. Just for that, you get to help Hobbie with laundry duty this month." Wes groaned in protest, but Luke ignored him. "No, we'll be heading for _Dan_tooine."

"Dantooine? You mean where the abandoned Rebel base is?" Zev asked.

"Yes, which makes it the perfect place for a pick-up. The Empire will never suspect us going back there. Just in case, though, be prepared for a firefight. We're not predicting any trouble, but it's better to be safe than sorry. Hopefully, we won't even have to get out of our X-wings on this trip."

From the back of the room, Dack raised his hand. "Excuse me, commander, but aren't there a lot of farms on Dantooine?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well, farms would indicate the presence of farm girls, would they not?"

"Don't get your hopes up, Dack. We won't be there long enough for you to meet your soul mate. Besides, farm girls can be notoriously picky. Trust me, I know."

"Ahem." Wes cleared his throat. "Speaking of ladies…"

Luke rolled his eyes, knowing exactly where Wes was taking this. Luke had transmitted the information about the defectors to his pilots' datapads the previous evening, with instructions to be prepared to help them acclimate to the Alliance. Apparently Wes had found some information that intrigued him.

Sure enough, Luke was correct.

"I think there was a typo on my report, boss. According to the information, one of the TIE pilots is a woman."

"Yes, Wes. That is correct."

"So…um…I'll volunteer to show her around. If you know what I mean."

"What makes you think she wants _you_to show her around?" Wedge asked. "She probably wants someone who's actually…attractive. Like a Corellian."

"Hey, she's _my _age!" Dack protested. "You should all back off and give me a chance."

"No way, Dack. Women like older men. Not ancient like our pal Senesca here, but old enough to have some experience under his belt. You know. Like me." Wes placed his hands behind his head.

"Please. The only experience you have with women is kissing your mom good night."

"Hey!" Wes smacked Hobbie on the arm. "You promised you'd keep that quiet!"

"Can I please get your attention?" Even though the Rogues had just been ribbing each other senseless, they all shut up as soon as Luke began speaking again. He had to hand it to his pilots—they knew when to have fun, but they knew when to get serious. "Thank you. Anyway, yes, one of the pilots is a woman. I'm hoping to offer her a spot on the roster, if she fits well with the squadron. I hope none of you have a problem with that."

"Are you kidding? Have you _seen_ what she looks like?" Wes balked, holding up his datapad. "She's a knockout, boss. She can be a member of my squadron any day."

"I'm glad for your approval, Wes, but I'm serious about this. The Alliance has a female Commander in Chief but hardly any female pilots. I want her to feel like she can fit in with us, and not have to worry about getting hit on all the time."

"So…are you saying that you don't approve of relationships between squadron mates?" Wedge asked. "Because, you know, just in case we do get any female members, that would be nice to know."

"I'm not saying that. I'm just saying not to make her uncomfortable. Contrary to what you may believe, not every woman's dream is to spend the night with Wes Janson."

Wes placed a hand over his heart. "That stings, Luke."

"Anyway…I guess what I'm trying to say is just be nice, okay?"

"Sure," Wedge nodded. "No problem. We'll make sure she is completely unaware of our competition to win her heart."

"And speaking of romance," Wes said, moving on to the next topic of conversation. "We'll be escorting the _Millennium Falcon_, correct?"

"Yes."

"And Princess Leia will be accompanying us on this mission, correct?"

"Yes."

"And Han Solo will be captain, correct?"

"Are you going somewhere with this?"

"Yes. Is there any way we can place listening bugs in the ship, so we'll have some entertainment while in hyperspace?"

Luke placed his head in his hands, silently counting to ten. When he looked up, he met his XO's eyes. "Wedge?"

The Corellian nodded and smacked Wes on the head.

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On the night before the _Accuser_ was to make orbit at Commenor, Mara thought she was going to be sick.

Many times over the past months had she been grateful that she had a single room; she had arranged to bunk on her own for various reasons, one being that it would enable to speak to her master without suspicion from a roommate. But that night she was grateful for an entirely different reason.

She was breaking down.

It wasn't unexpected. She'd been uneasy throughout this entire mission. When it had begun, she'd been confident and sure of herself, as she always was while serving as the Emperor's Hand. She expected her mission to go quickly and without any complications. She'd been more than pleased that her master had trusted her so much to carry out such an important task. And, of course, that he had taken her concerns to heart.

And now, she felt so unsure of herself and questioned every bit of training she'd ever received. It was all her fault, she knew. She had done what had always been warned against. This uneasiness was her punishment, her reminder of her place in the Empire.

There was a knock at the door and Mara reached out into the Force, not at all surprised when she felt Tycho on the other side. She'd expected him to check up on her on the final night. It was their last chance to speak privately before taking leave.

This was her chance to put a stop to it all before she had no other choice but to carry out her mission. She had to give Tycho one last chance to change his mind before she betrayed him. She owed him that much. He was logical and reasonable; surely he would understand her argument. And if she convinced him to stay in the Empire, then all her misgivings would fade away.

She opened the door without saying a word. She sat on the bunk while Tycho took the room's lone chair and stared at her expectantly. She knew what he was going to ask, but this time she didn't give him a chance.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing?"

Tycho blinked, surprised. "Of course. You know that I do."

Mara nodded. Of course she knew that.

"Have you changed your mind?"

"I know there are things wrong with the Empire. I just…maybe we're doing the wrong thing. Maybe we shouldn't leave. Maybe we should try to fix things from the inside." It was, in fact, exactly what Mara intended to do. She had already informed Palpatine that there were many abuses going on in his fleet. She intended to tell him everything on her return to the Palace, in hopes that he would address her issues. And she had no doubt that he would. After all, he had done so with Alderaan. Mara now had many reasons to distrust the Empire, but she would never give up faith in her Emperor.

"You think if we stay, we have a better chance of changing things?" Tycho asked.

"Yes! The Rebellion won a victory by destroying the Death Star, but do you really think they're powerful enough to take down an Empire? It just seems futile."

"Maybe it is—right now. But if more people like us change their minds, who knows how long it will be until the tide of the war is changed? How many people out there disapprove of what the Empire is doing, but don't dare defect to the other side because they're afraid the Alliance has no chance to win? If we all think that way…they never will."

"I just don't know, Tycho."

"Listen, Mara. I understand your concerns. I really do. When I first went to the academy, I believed in the Empire, but I also wanted to change it. I thought I could do that from the inside. I ignored all the abuses I saw and clung to the belief that things could still be changed. My classmates defected soon after we left the academy, and I still did nothing. Then Alderaan happened. And then I couldn't pretend anymore."

"But Tarkin's dead, and the Death Star is gone."

"_Tarkin_ is dead. Palpatine isn't."

Mara's eyes widened imperceptibly before she remembered herself and clamped down on her emotions. "What…what do you mean? Tarkin was in command of the Death Star. He made the decision to destroy Alderaan."

"And who gave him that command, Mara? Who gave him the authority to make such a decision?"

"Palpatine, but—"

"Exactly, Mara. Palpatine did. The Emperor, who rules his Empire exactly as he sees fit. Who knows, maybe change is still possible from the inside, but I know one thing for sure: as long as he's around, I really don't want to stick around to find out."

She didn't answer. She had absolutely no idea what to say.

"Here's the real question, Mara: do _you_ think it's fixable? If you do, then you need to stay on the _Accuser _tomorrow. If you're not completely sure, I don't want you going along with this. I trust you enough to know that you won't report where we've gone.

"But if you do agree with me, and you don't think that the Empire can be changed…then you need to come with me tomorrow. It's your decision to make. It always has been."

He watched her for a moment, looking for an answer to his question…but she still remained quiet, completely and utterly speechless.

_Her_ decision…

Finally Tycho stood from the chair and patted her on the arm. Before he left the room, he turned around and smiled at her. "I know you're nervous, but get some rest tonight, okay? Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."

The following morning, the _Accuser _arrived at Commenor. Four TIE fighter pilots took their leave on the planet.

They did not come back.


	8. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

It was dark in the abandoned Rebel base, but Mara didn't mind. The darkness matched her mood.

Blowing out a breath, she rolled her eyes at herself. She needed to quit being so dramatic and just get the job done.

She'd been brooding ever since she and the others had left Commenor. Outwardly, she projected the image of a nervous lieutenant, worried about getting caught by the Empire but still anxious to join the Rebellion. Inwardly, she could not stop questioning how she could possibly do what she was about to do. The only thing that had gotten her through the days was her endless training as the Emperor's Hand, which kept her acting stoic and in control. Darillian and Ticarus had no idea that Mara was experiencing doubts. Tycho was still overly protective of her, but seemed to buy her assurances that she was okay.

She kept telling herself that she just needed to hold out a few hours longer. Then it would all be over.

_Liar_, a tiny voice inside her head hissed. She clenched her eyes shut, ignoring it, blocking out everything in the universe but what had become her mantra over the past several days:

_You are the Emperor's Hand. Feelings, thoughts, and emotions do not matter. You serve the Empire and your Emperor. These men are traitors and deserve whatever happens to them._

She repeated this over and over until the butterflies in her belly finally started to subside. She could do this. She knew she could.

"—Rogues…classmate Klivian…leader Luke Skywalker…"

Mara's eyes snapped open. What name had Tycho just said? She went through all her memory enhancement techniques and, sure enough, he _had _mentioned Luke Skywalker. Wasn't that the person Darth Vader had been researching in the Emperor's library? He had gone through a lot of trouble to hide that fact. Perhaps Mara could now find out what was so special about this man…

Slowly, she made her way to where Tycho was talking to Darillian and Ticarus. They were eating some sort of dried rations and playing what looked to be sabacc. Tycho gave her an apologetic look when he saw her approaching. "We didn't wake you, did we?"

"No, I couldn't sleep." Tycho passed her a ration bar, and she gratefully accepted. She needed to build up her strength for tomorrow.

If he only knew that he was contributing to his downfall by being so nice to her…

"So what are you guys talking about?" Mara asked casually, hoping that Tycho would mention Skywalker again and she wouldn't have to awkwardly bring up the topic.

To her relief, he did. "I was just telling Rade and Zurel about some of the pilots who'll be picking us up."

"Oh?"

"I went to the academy with one of them—Hobbie Klivian. He's part of an elite group of pilots now, called Rogue Flight. There's only six of them, so who knows, maybe we'll be able to join their group."

"Maybe," Mara mused.

"Anyway, their leader is Luke Skywalker."

"Never heard of him," Mara lied. "Is he good?"

Tycho laughed. "You could say that. He came to the Alliance out of nowhere, and ended up getting their biggest kill yet."

Mara stared at him blankly for a moment…and then everything suddenly clicked. "You mean…the _Death Star_?" Her voice was incredulous, and she didn't even need to feign her surprise. Her master had tasked Vader with uncovering the Rebel pilot's identity, since Isard and the rest of Intelligence couldn't seem to come up with such a simple piece of information. Upon his attack on the Rebel base, Vader had said that all the Rebel leaders had been killed and he'd been unable to extract the information Palpatine wanted.

But yet Mara had met him in the Emperor's private library, and he'd been searching for this Luke Skywalker. It was too big of a coincidence. Vader knew the pilot's identity, and he had lied about it. To _Palpatine_! The implications were incredible.

Tycho nodded, unaware of Mara's internal revelation. "Like I said, he got the big one. As you can imagine, I'm hoping we'll get to show him our stuff. I feel like I've got a lot to make up for."

"We all do," Darillian agreed.

Beside him, Ticarus nodded. "Going from flying in a third-rate squadron to serving under the pilot who blew up the Death Star? Yeah, that sounds like a good trade to me."

"You think the Rebels have the same attitude towards women pilots as the Empire?" Mara asked, trying her best to be involved in the conversation despite the unease she was suddenly feeling.

"I should hope not," Tycho said. "Between Mon Mothma and Princess Leia, they've got their share of female leaders. If they do have something against female pilots, then they're pretty hypocritical, don't you think?"

"Yeah. So this Skywalker guy," she said, unable to drop the subject. "Besides blowing up the Death Star, what's so special about him?"

Tycho shrugged. "Hope of the Rebellion and all, I guess. I'm sure we'll find out more once we get there. Hobbie didn't want to give away too much in our conversations, just in case."

"That's probably smart," Mara said, once again unable to ignore the irony of the situation.

The three men started talking again, but Mara's mind was elsewhere. There had to be something more to this Skywalker than the fact that he blew up the Death Star. Not that it mattered, though; he'd be dead soon. The other implications swirled through her mind, however. She still could not comprehend that Vader had lied to the Emperor about knowing the pilot's identity! She was almost tempted to contact her master right now and let him know that Vader had been deceiving him.

But that could wait, she told herself. She had to get through her mission first. Tycho and the others would be taken into custody, and the Rebels—including Skywalker—would be killed. Then she would return to Imperial Center and inform the Emperor that Vader had in fact known the identity of the pilot who'd blown up the Death Star.

And then Palpatine would commend Mara for her successes and everything would go back the way it was. Maybe it would be even better, because after committing such unthinkable treachery, Vader would surely be gone.

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Leia was finally starting to become engrossed in the report she was reading when a loud roar coming from the hold caused her to jump and lose her place on her datapad.

For the fifteenth time.

Sighing, she slammed her datapad on what had become her bunk in the _Millennium Falcon_. Her room had previously been one of the ship's holds, but since Leia had been flying a lot with Han recently, it had been converted into spare quarters and had unofficially become hers. When she'd entered the ship a few days ago, the room even looked like it had been cleaned, and there were some artificial flowers on the makeshift bedside table.

Leia had to hand it to Han; he could be quite the charmer when he tried.

"Just move the damn piece, Chewie!"

But more than often, he was incredibly frustrating and annoying.

It was pointless to try to continue working, so Leia stomped her way to the hold. She stood in the entryway for long moments while Han and Chewbacca completely ignored her, so intent were they on playing their little holochess game. Even after she huffed several times, they still took no notice of her. Only after she stalked to the acceleration couch and plopped down next to Chewbacca did Han finally look up.

"Well, if it isn't the Princess! I was beginning to wonder if you would deign to show yourself to us peasants on this trip."

"I beg your pardon, Captain Solo, but as you are well aware I am the property of Princess Leia and therefore do not qualify as 'peasantry.'"

"Whatever you say, Goldenrod."

Leia rolled her eyes and reminded herself that she couldn't kill Captain Solo until _after_ her mission was finished. But when they got back to the fleet…oh, Luke was going to have to keep her far away from this insolent, arrogant, _infuriating _man.

"Yes, well. I was _trying_ to get some work done but found myself rather distracted."

"That's a pity, Your Highnessness." Leia made a face but Han ignored her, focusing intently on his next move. Chewbacca roared but Han put his hand out, cutting off his co-pilot. "Alright, alright! Don't get excited!"

"I'm terribly sorry sir, but Chewbacca is correct. That would have been an illegal move."

"Thanks for the advice, Professor."

"Oh, you're very welcome, sir."

The game continued on for several minutes longer. Leia tried to resume reading her datapad, but her attention kept getting stolen away by the game in front of her, which Han was horrible at. She couldn't help but smile at how frustrated he was getting. He was almost…_appealing _in such a state.

Oh, _what_was she thinking? Leia scowled at herself and placed her datapad in front of her face, trying to cover up the growing redness on her cheeks.

"Oh Captain Solo, I do believe that Chewbacca has won again!" Threepio exclaimed. Leia looked up just in time to see Han throw something across the room in disgust. "According to my records, Chewbacca has won six times while you have only won once. I must say that I am surprised. I would have expected someone of your background to be a much more competitive player—"

"That's enough!" Han growled. Beside him, the huge Wookiee placed his hands behind his head and wuffed a few times in amusement.

Leia grinned at the scene in front of her. "What's the matter, Captain Solo? Are you not a competitive holochess player?"

"Oh, don't you give me any lip, sweetheart. First of all, it's called dejarik."

"I know that," Leia snapped. "I am quite familiar with the game." It was a bold-faced lie, but Han didn't need to know that. He loved to insist that, despite her background in the Imperial senate and the Rebellion, there were still many things in the galaxy she was ignorant of. He would never let her hear the end of it if he knew she had never played dejarik.

"Sure you did. Well, if you're so familiar with dejarik, why don't we have a little friendly competition?"

"I'm sorry, but I have much more important things to do with my time."

"What, like have indecent thoughts about me while you watch me play dejarik?"

"_Excuse_ me? That is highly inappropriate for you to say!"

"Hey, I'm not the one who was just blushing, sweetheart."

"Oh, shut up!"

Han glanced at Chewbacca and grinned. "'Shut up?' Wow, Chewie. I must have gotten her pretty upset for her to resort to such uncouth language."

Leia shook her head and vowed not to let him get the best of her. "Fine," she snapped, slamming her datapad on the couch next to her. "You want to play? Let's play."

"You're on, Princess." Han smiled and reset the board, his eyes twinkling mischievously the entire time. "Why don't we make this even more exciting?"

"Not that playing dejarik with you doesn't already promise to be the most exciting thing I've ever done in my life, but what do you propose, Captain Solo?"

"Oh, just a simple wager."

"I'm not gambling, if that's what you're suggesting."

"Oh, I would never suggest that the highly exalted Princess Leia Organa lower herself so much as to gamble with credits."

"Then what _are_ you suggesting?" Leia asked, ignoring his incessant goading. It was almost like he enjoyed making her so angry!

"How about if you win, Chewie and I will be quiet for the rest of the trip." Chewbacca growled in protest but Han stopped him before he could continue "Now, now, Chewie, she's our guest, we need to make compromises. So, what do you say…Leia?"

It took all her strength to force herself not to glare vibroblades at him. She refused to let him see that he affected her so much. "That actually sounds lovely, Captain Solo. And if you win?"

"Oh, nothing special. How about if I win, I get to take you on a date?"

For a moment, there was silence. Then Leia threw her head back and laughed louder than she'd laughed in a very, very long time. She knew that such behavior was so unlike the Princess and leader of the Rebellion that she'd become, but she didn't care. It was too humorous not to laugh.

"What so funny?" Han demanded. He, apparently, did not see the humor in his suggestion at all.

"_You_ want to take _me _on a date?"

"Why not? What, you think someone like me doesn't know how to treat a lady like you?"

In the back of her mind, Leia was aware that this was the most sincere compliment Han had ever given her, but she was still too amused to take it to heart. "Fine, Captain Solo. Your terms are acceptable."

Han gave her that lopsided grin. "Then the game is on, Princess."

.

The game lasted longer than any of his games with Chewie, and Han actually had to try hard to compete with her. He had expected that it would be easy, but either Leia was a natural at dejarik, or she had been feigning ignorance before. Her moves indicated she knew what she was doing, and eventually Han realized that she had him cornered. That was nothing he could do.

Sure enough, Leia's piece walked over to his lone remaining creature, picked it up, and threw it on the floor.

She looked up and flashed him a brilliant smile, then sat back in the couch, looking entirely sure of herself. "Well, Captain Solo, I do believe that makes me the victor."

"Princess Leia is correct, Captain Solo. Her move terminates the game and makes her the winner. According to the terms of your bet, you must now remain quiet for the rest of the trip."

"Thanks, Threepio. I don't know what I'd do without you," Han deadpanned.

"Oh, you're quite welcome, sir!"

"Well, Captain." Leia stood, taking her datapad with her. "I'll be heading back to my quarters now, to get some work done. It was a pleasure doing business with you."

Han watched her retreating form as she left the hold, a rare sense of melancholy washing over him. Sensing his mood, Chewbacca pawed him and mumbled a soft question.

"I can't do that, Chewie," Han replied. "She's a Princess. You think she'd really give a guy like me the time of day?"

Han got up off the couch and headed towards the cockpit. The Wookiee got up to follow him, asking another question.

"She doesn't have any other choice," Han answered, shutting the cockpit door before Chewbacca could follow him inside.

The smuggler settled back in the captain's chair and watched the patterns of hyperspace out of the viewport. _If she doesn't like you, why does she keep flying with you?_ his old friend had asked. Briefly, Han allowed himself to consider that Chewie was right. If Leia didn't like him, why else would she agree to fly with him on all these missions? She was a High Councilor in the Rebellion; surely she could demand a different escort if she really hated being around him so much.

Han huffed at himself and forced himself to forget about her. She was only flying with him so he'd stick around in the Rebellion. That was it. After all, she was a Princess, and he was a smuggler. She was infuriating, stuck-up, and conceited beyond belief. Definitely not the kind of woman he'd ever want to be with.

And he couldn't stop thinking about her.

.

.

.

.

.

It was a beautiful morning on Dantooine. The perfect day to relax, have a picnic, or hike in the rolling meadows.

For Mara Jade, it was the perfect day to be the Emperor's Hand.

She glanced at her chrono again. Fifteen minutes now.

Her eyes closed, blocking out the view of the man sitting in front of her. The man she was about to betray. Could she do this? Could she _really_ do this?

How could she not? This was who she was. She had no other choice.

Without even thinking, Mara pulled her vibroblade from its sheath on her upper thigh. She grabbed a sharpening rod from her pack and began to scrape it against the blade. The screeching, metallic sound was music to her ears. She'd picked up this habit long ago, when she'd first been sent on solo missions. Whenever she got bored, she'd sharpen her blade. It calmed her.

Mara had never before wondered what it said about her, that sharpening blades calmed her nerves. Now, it only seemed fitting.

"What are you doing?"

The soft voice jolted Mara from her activity. Tycho had turned around and was giving her a curious look.

Mara shrugged and did her best to pretend that nothing was wrong. "Calms the nerves."

Tycho smiled. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that someone likes you finds sharpening blades to be calming."

Despite the gravity of the situation, a grin involuntarily tugged at her lips. He knew her so well…and yet he hardly knew her at all. "What can I say? I'm an open book, Tycho."

Her friend chuckled, then glanced at his chrono. "Ten minutes now," he announced to the others.

Mara nodded to herself. She'd be hearing from the fleet soon. They were supposed to home in on her signal, then swoop in and capture the traitors. If everything went right, Mara wouldn't have to raise a finger.

If it didn't…well, she was prepared to point her blaster at Tycho's back.

"Hey Tycho?" Mara asked suddenly, surprising herself with her words.

"Yeah?"

"I want to ask you something."

After a few moments, her Alderaanian friend settled down next to her. "What is it?" he asked softly.

She'd been thinking a lot about what he told her the night before they left the _Accuser_—that Palpatine was the cause of everything bad in the Empire. Deep down, Mara knew that everything that happened in the Empire was by the Emperor's will…but she'd never before blamed him for all the horrible things she'd learned went on the Empire. She'd never before associated him with people like Vader.

Her hands started shaking, and she sharpened her blade faster, trying to keep Tycho from noticing. "Do you really believe that everything bad in the Empire is Palpatine's fault?"

Tycho regarded her for a moment, a vacant expression on his face. "You don't?"

"I don't know," she replied honestly. "I've never really thought about it before."

Hesitantly, Tycho reached out and placed a hand over Mara's, stopping her movements. "It's difficult, isn't it?" he whispered. "Realizing that someone you once respected is actually the cause of all the bad things in the galaxy."

"You have no idea."

"I wish I'd figured it out sooner. I should have defected earlier, with Hobbie and Biggs. I should have flown against the Death Star. Instead…"

"Instead what?"

"…Instead I remained a loyal Imperial, and was speaking to my family via the HoloNet when Alderaan was destroyed."

"Oh gods, Tycho." Mara gaped at him for a moment. He had never divulged this information before. "That's…awful. I'm so sorry."

"We all lost people we loved that day. I didn't know it at the time…but I was watching them die. I just thought the feed had cut off for some reason. After I realized what the Empire had done, I couldn't stand to be there any longer."

"Because of Palpatine?"

"Because of Palpatine. Because of Tarkin and Vader. Everyone! Corruption starts at the top, Mara. I know that there are noble soldiers in the Empire. I met a lot of them at the academy; one of my instructors was one of the most honorable people I've ever met. But I realized that I couldn't stay in the Empire for them, not when someone like Palpatine was ruling with an iron fist. I mean, look at the people Palpatine surrounds himself with. Are they noble? Are they honorable? None of them are. And as my father always told me, you can tell a lot about a man by the people he surrounds himself with.

"Once I realized all that…I knew I couldn't surround myself with Imperials anymore. I had to get out. I had to fight for the Rebels, even if that meant signing my death mark. At least I'd be able to live with myself, no matter how short my life might be."

Mara opened her mouth to speak but couldn't find any words to say. Instead she nodded and began sharpening her blade again. "I know I'm doing the right thing," she said finally, more to herself than to Tycho. "It's just really hard."

Tycho nodded in understanding. "It'll be over soon, and then we'll be at the Rebellion. I'm sure all the guys will make you feel right at home."

"Sure," Mara replied absently.

They grew quiet again, waiting for the rendezvous countdown to finish. She glanced at her chrono…five minutes now until the Rebels arrived. Not long after that, the Empire would follow.

She sighed.

Then, just as her breath had grown slow and steady, Tycho's words began to echo ominously through her mind:

_Look at the people Palpatine surrounds himself with. Are they noble? Are they honorable?_

There was only one answer Mara could come up with:

No.

She distrusted them. She disliked them—Vader, Tarkin, Isard, Pestage. Everyone else in his retinue. How many times had she questioned why Palpatine placed so much trust in them? Why he gave them so much power? She had never been able to understand why such a noble man as the Emperor would have someone like _Vader_ as the second-in-command of the Empire. How many times had she wondered if Palpatine would finally come to his senses and get rid of the man?

But what if...what if she had been wrong all along? What if, instead of being the noble, honest man she'd been led to believe...what if the Emperor was just like Vader?

Or what if he was _worse_?

She suddenly knew that it all was true...and Palpatine had chosen her to be his precious Hand. She held a trusted position among his closest acolytes. What did that say about her?

She was about to betray a person she knew was completely honest and loyal; a person who, against all her better judgment, she had come to think of as a friend. She would point a blaster at his back while Imperial commandos led him and the others away. When it was all over they would surely be executed, and they would go to their graves knowing that it had been Mara Jade, the Emperor's Hand, who had betrayed them.

Every fiber of her being screamed out not to do this, yet she had no other choice. This was her life. She'd been raised and trained to do the Emperor's bidding without any regard for her feelings and emotions. She didn't know how to be anything else. The thought of betraying Tycho and the others made her feel sick, but the thought of failing her master made her want to stop living.

There was only one conclusion she could draw.

Her comlink beeped softly, insistently. Mara glared at it for a moment, then a switch flipped in her mind. Her jaw set in determination and her holdout blaster jumped to her steady hand.

Rising to her feet, the Emperor's Hand clicked her comlink once in affirmation, then followed Tycho and the others into the morning sun.

Perhaps she did belong with the Empire after all.


	9. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Blaster firmly in hand, Mara felt calmer than she'd been in weeks. All her training took hold and she settled into her old mindset, separating her thoughts from her actions and focusing on the task at hand.

"They're here," Tycho announced, voice suddenly somber and grave, but also determined.

Mara glanced into the sky, shielding her eyes from the bright sun, and saw a Corellian YT freighter approaching from the south. There was no sign of the accompanying X-wings, but Mara could sense that they were around, somewhere, waiting to strike if necessary.

Before she could think further on a possible firefight, the freighter touched down and the landing ramp lowered slowly. At the top of the ramp stood a petite, brown-haired woman. Her hair was twisted into a braid worn around her head and she was clad in a plain white flightsuit. For all intents and purposes, she seemed to be a technician or aide, but Mara knew that looks could be very deceiving. She'd seen this woman before. It was Leia Organa.

Mara placed her finger closer to her blaster's trigger; even at this distance she'd be able to burn a hole in Organa's chest without even trying. Slowly, she kneeled to the ground, ready to steady her hand and get a shot off—

.

.

It took a few seconds before her eyes adjusted to the bright Dantooine sunlight, then Leia walked a few steps down the ramp, still overly aware of her surroundings but committed to the task at hand.

All she saw were four pilots standing about fifty meters from where the _Falcon_ had touched down. At least it didn't seem to be an ambush.

"Recognition code?" Leia called.

One of the pilots, a blond man with the typical build of a fighter pilot, yelled back. "Mern-dorn-jenth-aurek. Reply?"

"Peth-besh-forn-usk."

The blond man glanced to his companions, then nodded. "Permission to come aboard?"

Leia nodded back and pulled out her comlink, ready to call to Han and Luke to take off as soon as the defectors got on board…

She turned, a shiver suddenly running down her spine, almost like a premonition that _something_ was horribly wrong. She had never felt anything like it in all her years in the Rebellion…it was like a whisper in her mind, telling her to _run_, and that something very bad was about to happen.

Her astute brown eyes surveyed the area and she still saw nothing...then her attention was drawn to the young woman with flame-red hair, kneeling in steady concentration. Was that…was she holding a blaster? Leia reached for her own and opened her mouth to scream—

And then a loud explosion rocked the _Falcon _from behind. Leia almost toppled off the ramp but caught herself at the last moment.

When she glanced back to the others, the redheaded woman was on her feet, blaster brandished towards the oncoming stormtroopers, her face twisted in absolute, pure rage.

Leia didn't have a chance to think on that before Han's voice started screaming out of her comlink and the _Falcon _began to rise back into the air.

.

.

Admiral Ozzel stepped forward on the bridge of the _Executor_, to the man in black standing stoically in front of the viewports. "Our fighters have begun their attack, my Lord."

"Good," Darth Vader replied without turning. "Inform General Veers that his troops may begin their surface assault."

"Yes my lord. And the informant?" Ozzel had been made aware that a high-ranking Imperial agent was accompanying the defectors on the ground. He certainly did not want to incur Vader's wrath by having the agent's death occur on his watch.

To his surprise, Vader simply waved his hand in complete disinterest. "The troops have their orders."

Ozzel's brow furrowed in confusion, but the past few months had taught him not to question Vader. Those who did usually ended up dead. "Yes my lord," he repeated, before heading to the comm station to relay the message to Veers.

.

.

"That was weapons fire!" Han yelled. "What the hell is going on, Chewie?"

The Wookiee yelled furiously, pawing at the sensor readings and desperately trying to determine who was attacking them and where they were coming from. Without a second thought, Han's hands danced over the controls, bringing the _Falcon _into the air again. "Watch yourself, Princess, we're going airborne!" As they lifted up he banked into a steep turn, facing the direction he thought the attack had come from.

There, right in front of him, was the answer:

Imperial TIE fighters.

The _Falcon_'s comm _hiss_ed to life before he had a chance to open a line. "Han, TIE fighters incoming!"

"We see 'em, junior—scratch that, we _feel _them! How many are there?"

"At least two squadrons in the atmosphere, and more up above," Luke replied glumly. "It's an ambush, Han. They knew we were coming."

"Let's worry about that later," Han snapped as he pulled the _Falcon _into another steep turn. "Can you guys cover us while we get the hell out of here?"

Luke's reply was cut off as Leia came rushing into the cockpit. "What are you doing?" she screamed.

"What does it look like we're doing, sweetheart? I'm getting you the hell out of here!"

"No, Han! We've got to go back! We can't just leave them there to die!"

"Oh we sure can. They knew what they were signing up for! I'm not gonna have Princess Leia's death happen on my watch just so we can save the lives of four Imps!"

"Rebels, Han. They're Rebels now."

He was so infuriated that he didn't even realize that she called him by his first name. But looking back on the situation, he wondered if perhaps that was the reason why he actually listened to her.

"Dammit Leia!" he yelled, slamming his hand down on the control panel. "I don't know how you get me dragged into these things!"

Leia grinned and leaned towards the comm. "Luke? It's Leia! We're going back around to pick up the defectors on the ground. Can the Rogues cover us?"

"We're on it."

.

.

The Rogues pulled in a tight circle around the _Falcon_, engaging the few TIE fighters that actually approached this close to the ground. Briefly, Luke allowed himself to wonder why so few of the TIEs were engaging in the fight when there were many more showing on his sensor board.

Then he noticed the stormtroopers rushing towards the defectors, their blasters out and blazing and most definitely not set for stun.

Luke grit his teeth and flipped his comm. "Three, this is Leader. I'm breaking off from formation to provide cover for those on the ground."

Wedge's voice returned loud and clear in his headset. "Copy, Leader. Need assistance?"

"Negative, Three. Keep on the TIEs."

"Copy that."

Luke jerked his flightstick toward the direction of the Imperial troops. The four defectors had taken cover behind a rocky outcropping and were fighting back valiantly, but Luke knew that if the troopers managed to get close enough, it would be a slaughter. He refused to let them die. He had done enough of that in his short time with the Alliance military.

He pulled the trigger and laser fire rained down on the troopers beneath him. Some of the more tenacious commandos weren't deterred, so Luke was forced to pull around for another pass and fire at them.

On his second pass, he saw the _Millennium Falcon_ slowly lower to the ground about fifty meters behind the defectors. In his mind, Luke yelled at them to run while they could, while he was keeping the troopers back and the other Rogues were taking care of the TIEs. He wished that he could speak to everyone through the Force. Or he just wished that the defectors had a headset on the ground.

As the thought went through his mind, one of the defectors glanced up sharply, looking directly at his X-wing. Luke's breath caught in his throat and it seemed as if their eyes locked onto each other, even through the vast distance.

It was the woman—Mara Jade.

Had she actually heard him? Was that even _possible_?

After a moment the woman turned back to the others and grabbed the leader's arm, pulling him out of their cover. She looked up again, then the group of four took off running full tilt towards the _Falcon._

_._

._  
><em>

The first explosion rocked Mara to the core.

She sensed the TIEs approaching. She had expected them. They were needed to take out the Rebellion's precious pilots, as well as the Corellian freighter.

When they started firing on the freighter, Mara allowed herself a small smile. _This is it,_ she thought to herself. _My job is done._

Then the green laser fire started coming dangerously close to the four of them. Tycho grabbed her hand and pulled her to the ground before she had a chance to protest, or put her blaster at his back. It was the perfect time for an ambush; she knew she could get off three quick shots with absolutely no resistance. They would never even know what hit them. Then she could announce her presence to the Imperial troops and remain safely under cover while they took care of the Rebels.

A stray blaster bolt flew by her head, and another explosion hit mere meters from where they were lying under cover.

It was that explosion that woke her up.

Imperial troops were firing on her. _Imperial troops_ were firing on _her_. Their weapons were not set for stun. They were not aiming to scare or to force a surrender. They were shooting to kill.

Palpatine had lied. He had _lied _to her! The traitors were supposed to be taken into custody and given a trial, as a warning to all the other potential defectors! That was what always happened. She always took her marks into custody unless they threatened her life.

But they hadn't posed a threat; they hadn't even been given a chance! They'd been ambushed, with no chance to defend themselves, and yet the troops were still shooting to kill. Palpatine had lied!

...Or had he?

Had he ever said to Mara at the defectors wouldn't be immediately killed? Had he ever given her any confirmation that the traitors would be taken alive?

He hadn't. She'd just assumed that would be the case, because that was what had always happened on her missions.

On _her _missions.

But this mission was no longer hers.

It never had been.

This mission had always been about Palpatine reasserting his will over her. Reminding her that she was the Emperor's Hand. That she was born to carry out his will without question.

And she had been about to go along with it all, until he had made the biggest mistake of his life.

Part of her mind screamed to put down her weapon, that she was firing on Imperial troops, that she needed to stop immediately and offer herself up to their mercy. Surely she could quote her recognition code and they would stop firing.

But the other part of her didn't care.

It was the Emperor's training that ultimately caused Mara to turn her blaster on her fellow soldiers. She had been trained to be ruthless, and taught never to risk her life for those who threatened her. These Imperial troops, no matter whose orders they followed, had done just that. They had fired on her. By doing so, they had forfeited their right to live.

So she followed all of her training as the Emperor's Hand to defend her life, and the lives of the traitors at her side.

Her shots came fast and furious and she took down many more stormtroopers than a TIE fighter pilot with her training should have been able to. She briefly remembered her cover story but she was too entrenched in battle to care. She'd deal with the repercussions later. Thankfully, the others seemed too busy to notice her sudden expert marksmanship.

She kept firing, rage bubbling up inside her at this treachery. She had given her entire life to Palpatine, and this was his thanks. An attempt on her life, all because she had had the audacity to question one of his subordinates. Was this just an elaborate test? Did he want her to quote her recognition code, blow her cover, and be forced to face those she'd betrayed? Did he want to see how many stormtroopers she could take down on her own? Did he want her to turn her weapon on the traitors, saving the Imperial troops the trouble?

What had he thought was going to happen? He had been responsible for all of her training. He knew that she'd been trained to defend her life above all others. It didn't matter that it was Imperials firing at her. There was no other option.

So she kept shooting at the Imperial troops, taking them down expertly, but she soon became aware that there were just too many of them. Eventually the four of them would be overwhelmed, and then they would die.

Her thoughts were shattered by laser fire coming from a swiftly approaching X-wing fighter. The ship circled around, laying down suppression fire between the stormtroopers and where Mara was taking cover. It kept some of the troops back but others were relentless, and the X-wing was forced to make another pass. It flew back and forth, keeping the commandos from coming too close to the defectors.

Then Mara was aware that the YT freighter was approaching from behind, apparently deciding that the defectors were worth all this trouble after all. Still firing her blaster, she glanced over her shoulder, trying to gauge the distance to the ship. She didn't know if they could make it.

_Run._

Mara jumped, startled beyond belief at the voice inside her head. In all her life, she had only heard one voice speaking in her mind—Palpatine's. His voice was all encompassing, oppressive, and demanding of her attention. Whenever they broke contact, she felt lost. It was like an addiction, and even throughout this mission that had shaken her to the core, she couldn't go more than a few days without the barest amount of contact with her master.

But this voice…this was pure, like sunlight, not demanding or harsh, but encouraging, helpful, and full of hope. It was a voice that promised freedom and a life of her own, away from those who strived to control her.

She glanced up to the X-wing circling overhead. It was far away, but she could still see the man inside. Even through his helmet, she could sense his eyes boring into hers—

_Run!_

She heard the voice again, and this time she knew—

The pilot circling her was Luke Skywalker, the Rebel that Vader had lied about to the Emperor—

He could use the Force!

Without another thought, Mara grabbed Tycho by the elbow and pushed him towards the freighter. "Run!" she yelled at him and the others.

They sprinted as fast as they could, Skywalker laying down cover fire the entire way.

.

.

Leia was practically bouncing on her toes at the back of the _Falcon_, watching out the landing ramp as the ship precariously approached the firefight between the stormtroopers and the defectors. The defectors would have been slaughtered had Luke not broken off to fly cover. Thankfully, the other Rogues had been able to protect the _Falcon_ on their own. Leia was once again grateful that Rogue Flight accompanied all her missions. They were certainly worth their weight in gold.

The ship slowed to a stop about fifty meters from the small outcropping where the defectors had taken cover. Before she could protest, Han's voice came in over her comm. "Can't go any further; bring 'em in!" His voice sounded both frustrated and apologetic. Leia made a mental note to put him in for a commendation after this mission was over. Not that he would care much about it, any more than he had about that medal she'd given him months ago, that he'd probably immediately thrown away.

Leia crept down the ramp as much as she could, then the _Falcon _suddenly lurched to the side and she gasped, but was pulled back to safety by a pair of large, hairy hands. She glanced over her shoulder to find Chewbacca behind her. He growled an instruction; thankfully, Leia had been around the Wookiee long enough to have a basic knowledge of Shyriiwook, and thought she understood what he was telling her.

"You want me to lean over and pull them up?" she asked.

Chewbacca nodded vigorously in confirmation and growled again. "Okay…" she replied hesitantly, worried that they were still so far off the ground but well aware that Chewbacca would never let her fall.

After several moments she was in place, and just in time—the defectors had arrived at the _Falcon._

The blond man—the Alderaanian named Tycho Celchu—was the first to jump up and grab her wrist. With the help of the strong Wookiee behind her, Celchu was pulled to safety. He then reached out to his comrades, dark-haired men named Ticarus and Darillian.

The woman—Mara Jade—was the last one left, far behind the others. Leia stared intently at her, remembering the sense of danger she'd felt before the Imperials had arrived, and wondering if this woman had been the source of the ambush…

Even if she was, Leia couldn't leave her on Dantooine. If Jade was an informer, she needed to be questioned. Perhaps Luke could question her when they got back to the fleet. He was always a good judge of character.

Jade was running towards the _Falcon_ at full speed, Luke in his X-wing doing his best to keep back the pursuing stormtroopers. Celchu even started laying down his own suppression fire, and the other pilots followed suit.

But Jade turned back, her face twisted with betrayal, and she tried to get a few more shots off at the advancing stormtroopers—

Then one of the blaster bolts connected with her calf, tearing a scream of anger from her lips. She immediately fell to the ground, snarling with rage, and fired back, taking out the trooper that had shot her. She started crawling towards the _Falcon_ as fast as she could but it was no use—

She wasn't fast enough. The troopers were going to overtake her.

.

.

Luke gasped as a blaster bolt hit Mara's leg and she tumbled to the ground, her rage and anguish clearly radiating through the Force. He could so clearly feel her pain and her emotions—what did that mean?

Could she possibly be strong in the Force, too?

The thought of having another Force sensitive person in the Alliance thrilled him to the core. He wouldn't have to be alone anymore…they could train together…they could teach each other and learn from the others' strengths.

As another blaster bolt came precariously close to Mara, who was now struggling to claw her way towards the _Falcon_, Luke chided himself. She wasn't going to make it to the _Falcon_ on her own. He needed to do something _now_if she was going to survive long enough for him to even ask her about the Force.

He yanked his flightstick and aimed his X-wing directly at the ground. "Artoo, I need you to keep the X-wing steady and shoot at the stormtroopers, got it?"

The droid chirped and Luke glanced at the data screen. AFFIRMATIVE.

"Thanks, Artoo!"

When the ship was just several meters above the ground, Luke switched over to automatic pilot and was out of the cockpit in seconds, dropping into a roll when he hit the ground. He brandished his lightsaber and blocked the stormtroopers' shots to the best of his ability, silently chastising himself for not practicing more with his remote. Then the X-wing's weapons systems flared to life and Artoo began to lay waste to the oncoming commandos.

Luke grinned and turned around, no longer having to worry about the troopers. He sprinted toward Mara, who was still crawling as fast as she could. When he reached her, she gazed up at him with hard green eyes.

Hesitantly, almost as if he was worried that she would slap him, he held out his hand. "I'm Luke Skywalker!" he yelled. He bit down on his tongue to keep the rest of that old declaration from coming out of his mouth.

Mara continued to stare at him blankly, glancing back and forth from his face to his hand. "Take my hand!" he urged her.

She shook her head. "Leave me alone," she whispered, her voice as cold as ice. "It was my fault I got hit. Go while you still can."

Luke shook his head right back. "My droid has got them pinned down!" At that moment, there was more weapons fire, this time coming from the _Falcon._He grinned. "See? We've got even more back-up. Now come on!"

.

.

Mara was again tempted to tell Skywalker to leave her the hell alone. It was her fault for getting injured; she should have kept running, but her anger distracted her and forced her to turn her attention back to the stormtroopers. He should leave her there to die; that's what she was taught to do in the same situation. Don't let another person's stupidity threaten your life and the success of your mission.

And even after Palpatine's betrayal, the thought of going with the Rebels filled her with an incredible sense of dread. They would certainly find out who she was…and then what?

But she couldn't go back to the Empire. Not after this.

What options were there?

"Come on!" Skywalker shouted at her.

His shout brought her back to life. One thing was for sure: she couldn't let herself _die._Not by Palpatine's hand.

She was a fighter. She'd always been a fighter, and would die fighting. She could no more stop defending herself than she could stop breathing. That self-preservation, even more than her life as the Emperor's Hand, was the essential core of her being.

Making her decision—to live, no matter what the cost—she reached up and grabbed Skywalker's hand. She'd deal with the consequences later.

He pulled her off the ground with surprising strength and placed her gently over his shoulder. If any other man had ever tried to do a similar thing, she would have most assuredly hurt them…but times had changed, it seemed.

Skywalker ran fast, covering the distance to the Corellian freighter in seconds, his lightsaber held to guard the entire time. Mara watched it as she bounced against his back, and wished that she had kept her own, but hoping that she would never need it again.

They reached the landing ramp and Tycho was there, holding out his hand. After she pulled herself up on the ramp she turned around, facing him again. "Thank you," she whispered softly.

Skywalker nodded, his gaze remaining locked on hers…then he turned and bolted towards his X-wing.

"Go Han, they're all in!"

Mara heard Organa's yell into the comm, but she paid it no attention. Instead she glanced at Tycho, Darillian, and Ticarus. They seemed relieved, and Mara was too, for a second—

Then, as she looked towards open space and realized what was there, waiting for her, she knew that it wasn't over yet. Not by a long shot.

.

.

"Lord Vader?"

The Sith Lord turned around slowly, already aware of what Admiral Ozzel was about to tell him, and not at all pleased with the turn of events on the planet.

The aging admiral swallowed under Vader's glare. "My lord, it appears that the _Millennium Falcon _and the accompanying X-wing fighters have made their way through Dantooine's atmosphere."

"Yes, admiral. What do you plan to do about it?"

"My lord?"

"You have a plan to destroy the Rebel ships, do you not?"

"Of…of course, sir." The admiral turned abruptly and began issuing orders to Captain Piett. "Order several squadrons to intercept."

"Captain Piett?" Vader said without shifting his attention from the viewports at the front of the _Executor_'s bridge.

"Yes, my lord?" the captain stammered, never having been addressed by the Dark Lord personally.

"Be sure that you send the 181st." He wanted his very best pilots to take care of Jade and the Rebels.

He could hear Piett click his heels as he saluted. "Yes, my lord."

Vader watched the stars in silence, waiting for it to all be over. He had heard the report from General Veers, that Jade had returned fire to the 501st. Of course, they had fired on her first…but Palpatine did not need to know that.

.

.

In the cockpit of the _Millennium Falcon,_ relief turned to anxiety as an all too familiar shape began to cover the viewports. Han checked the sensor readings and, sure enough, they were heading straight towards the _Executor._

Chewie roared defiantly. "These kids must be pretty damn important for the Empire to send Vader after them," Han mumbled to himself. He maneuvered the ship away from the SSD, but new sensor blips caught his attention before he could start calculating the jump to hyperspace.

He cursed and took off down the hallway towards the gunnery chairs, not even having to tell Chewie what was going on.

Mara was lying in the hold, using the Force to suppress the pain coursing through her body. Organa was dressing her wound, and Mara could have laughed at the irony of the situation.

Well, Tycho had warned her that it would take awhile to adjust to her new life. If he only knew.

An older, dark-haired man came hurrying into the hold. "Any of you good with a gun?"

Tycho, of course, was the first to volunteer. "Yes, sir."

The man—Mara assumed he was the captain of the Corellian freighter and, therefore, a Corellian himself—waved his hand. "There'll be none of that sir business on my ship, you all got that? I ain't in the military and you ain't in the Empire no more. Now let's go."

They disappeared up and down the ladder, heading toward the gunnery chairs. After a few moments, Mara could hear and feel the shudder of laser blasts coming dangerously close to the ship. She must have cringed, because Organa gave her a sympathetic look.

"Don't worry," she said. "The _Falcon _may look like a piece of junk, but she hasn't let me down yet." She glanced at the floor for a moment. "And neither has Captain Solo."

Mara nodded, not bothering to explain that she had been cringing at Vader's presence in the Force, not the threat of the TIE fighters. "This ship is called the _Falcon_?"

"The _Millennium Falcon_, yes. Han Solo is the captain, and Chewbacca is the first mate."

"Chewbacca?" Mara questioned, remembering the Wookiee she had seen on the ramp. "A Wookiee?"

"Yes. You don't have a problem with that, do you?" Organa's eyes narrowed threateningly, and at first Mara had no idea what she was talking about.

Then Mara realized—they had just defected from the Empire. The Empire that had enslaved Wookiees. She could have slapped herself for being so stupid and inviting suspicion.

"No, not at all! In fact, that's one of the reasons I left," she lied.

Organa seemed pleased. "Good. You have something in common with Captain Solo, then."

Now that was interesting…this Captain Solo was once a soldier in the Empire? Mara made a mental note to ask him about that later.

Much later.

.

.

The TIEs surrounding them were some of the best pilots Luke had ever faced. It took all of his concentration and strength in the Force to avoid their fire. Somehow, there had been no casualties so far, although several of the Rogues had taken direct hits and were running low on shields. They were outnumbered, even with the _Falcon_'s guns, and were in danger of being vaped.

Luke clicked on his comm, desperate for guidance. "Rogues, this is Leader. Anyone got any bright ideas?"

"Leader, Three. That's a negative. These guys don't let up!"

Luke nodded solemnly to himself. Of course they didn't; they were facing the _Executor_, the Imperial flagship. Vader's ship. Luke bit back a curse at the thought of the monster who had killed his father. If only he were out here in one of the fighters...then Luke could have another chance to avenge his father's death.

_You coward!_Luke thought violently, almost wishing that Vader could sense his thoughts through the Force.

_Be mindful of your thoughts, Luke._

The voice jolted him. "Ben?" he gasped.

_Trust the Force._

Luke grimaced, still unsure of what to do. Flying down the Death Star's trench had been easy compared to this; there had been a clear goal, and Luke knew exactly when it was time to take that shot.

This? This was mayhem, and Luke had no idea what to do.

As he avoided another TIE's laser blasts, he banked into a steep curve and caught another view of the SSD. This time, Luke couldn't suppress the anger welling up inside him…

_Vader_…

.

.

On the bridge of the _Executor_, the Dark Lord of the Sith suddenly turned and bellowed at his admiral. "Call off the attack!"

Ozzel gaped at him, incredulous. "My lord?"

"Call off the attack, _now_! Do not make me give the order a third time!"

Without even offering an acknowledgment, Ozzel barked into the comm to recall the TIE fighters. He jumped when he looked up to see Vader standing menacingly at his side. "Is the tractor beam ready, admiral?"

"Yes, of course, my lord."

"Good. Use it. Bring them in. Bring them all in." Satisfied, Vader turned back to the viewports.

His son was out there.

Perhaps the Emperor's Hand could be far more useful than Vader had ever imagined.

.

.

The TIEs stopped shooting, and Han had to pinch himself to keep from hollering. "Chewie! You got jump coordinates ready yet?" he yelled into the headset.

The Wookiee roared back an affirmative, and this time Han really did holler.

.

.

Luke was incredulous when the TIEs stopped firing and began to fall back to the _Executor._ He still felt a sense of danger, and knew that they had to get out of there, _now_.

Han, apparently, also had the same idea. "We're sending you coordinates, kid! Get the hell out of there!"

He didn't need to be told twice. He clicked his comm in affirmation. "Rogues, this is Leader. Coordinates coming to your astromechs. Jump as soon as you receive them."

Within seconds, Luke was the only ship left surrounding the _Executor._His hand reached out to push the hyperspace lever—

And he glanced over his shoulder at the huge SSD—and Darth Vader—one last time—

.

.

Vader watched as the ships disappeared in front of him, rage boiling up inside of him but pushing it down, because the boy was still out there, and that was all that mattered…

For the briefest of moments, there was a tenuous connection in the Force as Vader reached out to his son. The boy was so powerful but so untrained. Vader could sense his strength in the Force in all its glorified potential. And he would be the one to show Luke that power, and then they would rule.

His son could take down the Emperor. Vader could _feel _it. He was so close to achieving his goal, and the vow he'd made on Mustafar…

Admiral Ozzel opened his mouth to speak behind him, announcing that the tractor beam had a lock on the remaining X-wing—

.

.

The stars outside his cockpit turned to streaks as his X-wing jumped to hyperspace. Luke leaned back in his chair and breathed a much-needed sigh of relief.

He slept all the way back to the fleet, tossing and turning as the dreams assaulted him again—dreams of delivering justice to his father's murderer, and bringing peace to the galaxy.

.

.

Mara sat restlessly on the floor of the _Millennium Falcon,_considering the abrupt turn her life had just taken. What would she do now? Should she tell Palpatine that she had succeeded in her mission? Should she ignore him completely, and forget about her life as the Emperor's Hand? Would he come after her? Was this even Palpatine's doing? It had been Vader's forces leading the attack...

No. She shook her head, remembering what Tycho had told her. Remembering what she had learned. Everything that happened in the Empire was mandated by the Emperor. This had been Palpatine's doing, as much as Vader's. After all, Vader would never have authorized an attempt on her life without express permission from his master.

She had been betrayed.

But could she stay with the Alliance? She didn't believe in the Rebellion any more than she did the Empire, so where did that leave her?

One thing she knew for certain: Vader had called off the attack. She didn't know why—perhaps it had something to do with Skywalker. Whatever the reason, she knew that Vader would never admit the truth about today's events to the Emperor. He would lie and say that the mission had been successful. And somehow Mara also knew that he would lie about the fate of the Emperor's Hand.

Perhaps Mara should do the same. She should lie, say that the mission had been successful, and that she wished to continue on to her next mission instead of returning to the Palace. Surely the Emperor would grant her permission to do so after such a staggering success.

That would be her plan, then. Palpatine was sure to contact her soon, and she'd prepare herself to lie to him. She didn't know if it was even possible, but she would try. Then, once she got to the Rebel base, she'd procure a ship and leave in the dead of night. Then she would head off into the galaxy on her own, and finally learn who Mara Jade truly was.


	10. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Han collapsed back into the gunnery chair as soon as the _Falcon_ jumped to hyperspace, blowing out his breath in relief. That was the second time he had narrowly escaped Vader's Super Star Destroyer and Han would not have complained if he never laid eyes on it again. He had definitely gotten way more than he bargained for when he first agreed to shuttle supplies for the Rebel Alliance.

It was after the evacuation of Yavin IV that Han first considered heading out for good. His routine shipping runs and escorts of Princess Leia were getting too dangerous. He already had a death mark on his head thanks to his dropped shipment from Jabba the Hutt; he really didn't need the increased attention that Imperial watch lists would bring.

He had even started packing his belongings, ready to get the hell out of there (especially after Leia's smart remark about the Rogues bailing them out), but as always, Chewie was there to hold him back. The Wookiee was dead set on staying in the Rebellion and Han really couldn't blame him one bit. And if it had just been a simple matter of picking up and delivering supplies, he would have had no qualms with serving the Alliance.

But things had started to get serious and Han couldn't help but remember the words he'd uttered to Luke before the Battle of Yavin:

_"What good is a reward if you ain't around to use it? Besides, attacking that battle station isn't my idea of courage. It's more like suicide." _

He had meant it then, and he certainly believed it now. He and Chewie needed to get the hell out of the Rebellion before they got themselves killed.

Before he got _other _people killed.

Han ripped off the headset and hurried down the ladder, ignoring those ominous thoughts. He was going to have a long talk with Chewie when they got back to the fleet.

For now, he was still captain of his ship, and his first task was to make sure that everyone onboard was safe.

"Nice shooting," Han offered to the soldier who'd volunteered to handle the other gunnery chair. He held out his hand. "I'm Han Solo."

"Lieutenant Tycho Celchu," the man returned.

Han narrowed his eyes, an odd sense of familiarity hitting him as he recalled the way Celchu had handled the _Falcon_'s gun. Han hadn't kept tabs on his old acquaintances in the Empire since he'd left, but there was one person's career he couldn't help but follow... "You didn't happen to train under Fel, did you?"

Celchu nodded. "Yes sir, Captain Fel was one of my instructors at the Prefsbelt IV Naval Academy."

Han chuckled. "I'll try not to hold that against you." He brushed past Celchu, who furrowed his brow in confusion.

He reached the hold and observed the dwindling chaos. "Everyone alright in here?" Leia was tending to the wound on the redhead's leg. Chewie was handing out ration bars to the two other pilots, while Threepio was trying to be helpful and translate. The two men looked up in relief at Han's question.

"We're fine," Leia said. "Lieutenant Jade got a nasty blaster wound, but it should heal nicely."

"Good." Han nodded to Jade, then to the two other pilots. "I'm Han Solo, and this is my first mate, Chewbacca."

The younger, brown-haired pilot raised his hand. "I'm Zurel Darillian."

"Rade Ticarus," the other one added.

Han turned to Jade. "I'm Mara Jade. Thanks for coming back for us," she said, avoiding his gaze, looking highly uncomfortable.

He waved dismissively. "Thank the Princess, and Luke for keeping all those TIEs from blasting us."

"He means Commander Skywalker," Leia added, smiling brightly at the mention of her friend. "He's the leader of Rogue Flight, some of the best pilots in the Alliance."

Han rolled his eyes.

"He's the one who rescued me," Jade whispered, again looking extremely uncomfortable.

Now Han couldn't keep the grin from spreading across his face. So Luke had rescued yet another pretty girl… Yeah, he was going to have a nice, long talk with the kid when they got back to the fleet.

Leia nodded vigorously. "Yes. He's a great asset to the Alliance."

"Alright Princess, let's stop giving junior a big head, he's not even around to hear you fawn over him." Han ignored Leia's indignant frown and Jade's small smirk. "Chewie, you and the Professor show these guys around. I need to have a chat with Her Royal Highness in private."

"Oh, certainly Captain Solo, it would be my pleasure!" Threepio said cheerfully.

Leia was glaring vibroblades at Han but he ignored it and grabbed her arm, pulling her towards the cockpit. Halfway there she yanked her arm away and brushed past him. Again Han rolled his eyes.

Finally they were alone and Leia placed her hands on her hips and affected the offended, stuck-up pose she'd perfected so well. But this time Han didn't give her a chance to speak.

"What the _hell_ happened back there, Leia? We could have gotten killed!"

She stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. "I don't _know _what happened," she replied. "Obviously, the Empire was tipped off to the defection and pick-up."

_"Obviously,"_Han replied sarcastically. "So, what, the Council didn't think it was important to mention that Darth Vader himself might have a vested interest in this group of defectors? Are they trying to get us killed?"

"They didn't know, Han! It was an ambush!"

"Yeah, and I don't like the fact that Alliance Command didn't know that there might be trouble on this mission! I don't like it at all, Leia."

"There's a possibility of trouble on every mission, Han. You know that."

"Then maybe it's high time I got the hell out of here and stopped risking my neck for your crazy Rebellion!"

Leia took a step back, deeply affronted. "You can leave whenever you like, Captain Solo," she said, her voice deathly quiet. "As you so often remind me, you have no ties to my 'crazy Rebellion.'"

Han sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. He didn't want to fight with her. He really didn't. "Look, I'm sorry—"

"Is there anything else you'd like to say about the mission before I return to our guests in the hold?" she continued on, all business.

"Just one thing," he said, more in an attempt to get her to stay and talk things out with him than because he actually cared about the mission. "What do _you _think happened back there?"

She looked away again, and for a moment Han thought she wouldn't answer. But she was a Princess and a politician and she couldn't resist giving her opinion. "Honestly?" She glanced back towards the hold. "I think one of them is a mole."

"What?" Han exclaimed. "And you wanted me to go back there to rescue them and one of them might've been in on it? Have you gone completely insane?"

"I'm not certain of it, and even if I was I wouldn't have left them all to die back there! If one of them is a mole, he or she needs to be interrogated and put on trial. That's the way the Alliance works."

"Well, who do you suspect?"

Leia paused. "Jade."

Han huffed incredulously. "The girl? Have you looked at her? She couldn't hurt a fly!"

"Oh, I saw her fighting out there and I assure you, she could hurt a lot of people. I wouldn't let her hear you say that about her or you just might find yourself missing a limb."

"Fine, whatever. So what is it about her that's got you all suspicious?" He had to physically restrain himself from saying what he was thinking—that Leia couldn't stand the thought of another woman her age coming into the Alliance and taking away Luke's attention. If history really did have a way of repeating itself, Luke was sure to start mooning over this new girl as soon as they got back to the fleet.

Leia narrowed her eyes and Han had a crazy feeling that she was able to read his thoughts. Then she shook her head. "She had a blaster out when we first arrived and I asked for the recognition code. I just…I got a bad feeling."

"She was pointing it at you?"

"Not exactly. It was pointed _near_ me."

"O-kay. So an Imperial lieutenant who's about to defect to the Rebellion is carrying a blaster, and that automatically means she's a mole?"

"I told you, Han, I just got a bad feeling! I can't explain it any more than that."

"Oh, don't tell me that you joined Luke's side, and you think you can use the Force now, too."

"Very funny. No, it's not that at all. Just call it woman's intuition."

"I'll call it woman's something, alright," Han muttered under his breath. "Fine. So let's say this Jade woman is a mole after all. What do we do about it?"

Leia shrugged. "Keep acting the way we've been acting. We don't want to let her know we suspect anything. When we get back to the fleet, Intel will have to brief them all. And I was hoping Luke could speak with her as well, and see what he thinks about the situation."

"Heh, I'm sure he'd love that. Just make sure he doesn't stay alone with her for too long."

"Oh, you're incorrigible."

Han smirked and leaned back against the bulkhead, crossing his arms over his chest. "I am, aren't I?"

Leia huffed and shook her head, reaching for the cockpit door's activation panel. Han put out his arm to stop her. "You really believe that Luke can use this Force stuff, don't you?"

She gazed up at him, looking him directly in the eye. "Yes. I do."

Now Han was the one to shake his head. "It's all a bunch of hocus pocus, you know that—"

"No it's _not_, Han! My father knew the Jedi. So did Mon Mothma. The Jedi of the old Republic were not deluded magicians who performed _hocus pocus_, as you say. They were honorable men and women who were slaughtered by their own troops, and betrayed by the Republic they had swore to protect!"

Somehow Han's other hand had reached out to clutch Leia's arm. He was suddenly very aware of how warm her skin felt against his; how flushed her cheeks got when she spoke passionately about something she believed in; how her eyes sparkled when she argued with him. He leaned in to her involuntarily and she stepped back in kind, eyes darting up at him warily, doing her best to keep a polite distance between them.

But Han stepped towards her again, undeterred. When he spoke, his voice was a whisper. "And you really believe that Luke should be a Jedi, even knowing all that? He already blew up the Death Star, Leia. He doesn't need another reason for the Empire to hunt him down."

Leia's breath quickened, and it became very obvious that this conversation was no longer about Luke, or Leia's involvement in the Rebellion, or Han's inability to commit himself to a higher cause.

The air grew hot and heavy and Han almost had to remind himself to breathe. Leia's big brown eyes gazed up at his and he found himself staring at her lips—

She pulled away abruptly, clutching her arms around her chest. "I think Luke should be whatever he wants to be, Captain Solo." The door hissed open and she stepped into the hallway, pausing once to look back at him. "And I think the same for you."

And then she left.

.

.

.

Mara was laughing, something she hadn't done for months, maybe even years. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt happy of her own volition, and not because she'd successfully completed a mission or received Palpatine's approval.

Had she _ever _been happy? Happiness had never been a consideration. Certain things brought her pleasure, of course, and she had generally felt fulfilled in her old life.

_Her old life…_

But happy? She didn't think she'd ever truly felt that way before. And yet, here she was, in a ship filled with Rebels, on her way to the Rebel command ship, and she was laughing—but not because she was about to betray them. She was the one who had been betrayed.

No, she was laughing because…it just seemed right. She couldn't even place why. Perhaps it was her body reacting to the highs of battle. Perhaps it was relief that she was still alive, and would live to fight another day. Perhaps she was giddy at the thought of lying to Palpatine and stealing her life back.

Perhaps…there was no reason.

She found herself milling around the hold with the others, floating back and forth between dejarik and sabacc and alcohol. Tycho of course grew protective and cut her off before she could feel the effects of the brandy. Not that she needed his protection; she'd learned long ago how to counter the effects of intoxicants through the Force and exactly how much she could drink before she became impaired. But she played along with him, because Mara Jade, the TIE fighter pilot, wouldn't be aware of such things, and she still had a cover story to keep intact.

In the end she sat talking with Leia Organa for hours, finding her to be a kindred spirit despite the suspicion Mara knew the other woman felt for her. Organa believed, rightly so, that Mara was the reason behind the ambush. In her old life, Mara would not have rescued someone who posed an obvious threat—_never leave an enemy at your back_, she'd been told countless times—but Organa had done exactly the opposite and gone out of her way to rescue her. So had Skywalker. Perhaps their rescue had more devious purposes, because they needed her for questioning, but either way, it was Mara's first indication that the Rebellion was highly different from the Empire. The Empire that had just been so willing to kill her to get rid of a few defectors.

Mara talked to Organa because she wanted to allay the Princess's suspicions, but also because she was genuinely curious about the woman. She'd first laid eyes on Organa in the Death Star's control room, when the Princess had been forced to watch Alderaan be destroyed. At the time Mara had been dismayed because of the effects Alderaan's destruction might have on the Empire.

But now, after getting to know Tycho and Darillian and Ticarus, Mara was starting to feel something else about the destruction of Alderaan:

Anger. Sadness. Betrayal.

And she hadn't even known anybody who'd perished. It was a lie…a lie that had become the truth.

And yet Leia Organa sat in front of her, talking and laughing as if her world hadn't just been destroyed months ago.

In the middle of their conversation, Mara began to feel a familiar pressure at the back of her mind and knew that the moment she so desperately wanted to put off was now unavoidable.

She had to report to the Emperor. The man who had raised her like a father. The man who had controlled her implicitly.

Despite what had just happened, she still felt a pang of sadness for her old life. Palpatine had always treated her fairly, with courtesy, and pride. And Mara had bought it hook, line, and sinker.

She felt like an utter fool. She wanted nothing less than to let him inside her mind. But she had no choice.

Mara closed her eyes, trying to stave off the contact until she could be alone, and was suddenly very grateful for the alcohol she had drunk, for it would allow her an excuse to get alone.

Organa regarded her with concern. "Are you alright, Mara?"

She shook her head, and it wasn't a lie. "'Fresher." The word came out as a croak.

The Princess was on her feet immediately, pulling Mara with her. She wanted to protest but decided it wasn't worth it; she needed to get alone _now _before she could no longer ignore his presence in her mind.

Somehow she stumbled into the fresher and slammed the door shut before she collapsed onto the floor, the familiar pressure in her mind now overwhelming and so unlike it had ever been. Vaguely Mara wondered why it was so different now—was it the betrayal, her revelation of what the Emperor truly was, her newfound desire for liberation?

Or was it something else, because now she had felt someone else's presence in her mind and it had been something else entirely?

She wouldn't allow herself to think such things.

Lying on the floor, she kept her eyes shut as she finally opened the bond with her master.

_My child._The voice was deceptively soft, like a whisper in her ear, and Mara shivered against the cold floor, the sensation like a snake slithering up her body. For the first time in her life she hated this, despised it, this violation of her mind. How could something so fundamental in her life change so quickly?

_You have been successful._He didn't need to ask, and Mara now had confirmation that Vader had indeed lied about his—and her—participation in the mission. For the first time, she felt like she could truly do this. She took several steadying breaths and cleared her mind of doubts, like the soldier she was.

_Yes, master._

And just like that, she had lied.

_I am very pleased, Mara. Very pleased indeed. You will receive high commendations on your return to the Palace._ Public _commendations._

It was something she had always wanted; as the Emperor's Hand, she lived her life in shadows, receiving praise only from the Emperor in private. It was the only approval she expected, but she hadn't been able to hide that she desired to be recognized as an official part of the military, like Vader, with her own rights and privileges. It was a bone of contention between the Emperor's two acolytes, but Mara had always deferred to her master's wisdom that she remain hidden, concealed.

Now that she had finally recognized the game the Emperor had been playing with the two of them, she could only smile ironically at the statement that would have once brought her such incredible pride. _Thank you, master. But, with your permission, I would like to continue on with my mission immediately._

She put a hint of deference in her thoughts, knowing that the Emperor would not tolerate any kind of dictation of her next assignment. There was a pause, and Mara could sense him thinking on her request, wondering why she did not desire to return to the Palace. For a moment Mara was worried that he had suspicions and that she'd be recalled, that she'd be found out—

But he was in a giving mood, it seemed, and decided to agree to her request. _Of course, child. You have done well. I expect nothing less of you from your next assignment._

Mara smiled, knowing exactly what her next mission entailed. _Yes master. I won't fail._

She purposefully excluded the _you_.

The contact broke, as it so often had…but this time, it was like part of her heart was ripped out of her chest.

She managed to pull herself to the toilet before she started heaving and tried to be as quiet as she could, but it was to no avail. She could sense Leia Organa in the hallway, the woman's concern clearly radiating through the Force. But Mara had locked the door and she stayed hunched over the toilet until all the contents of her stomach had been expelled.

It had never been that way before. She had always felt lost and alone when their contact was broken, but this…this was violent and painful and she never wanted to feel this way again.

Would it always be like this?

Would she always hear his call and be forced to answer, as long as she—and he—lived?

Would she ever be free?

After a few moments she knew she couldn't hide anymore. She pushed herself to her feet, splashed water on her face, and opened the door, ready to face the galaxy like the soldier that she was.

.

Leia cringed as she heard Jade get sick in the fresher, feeling a pang of sympathy for the other woman in spite of her suspicions. Leia knew that Jade was only eighteen years old and fresh out of the academy; the combination of the firefight, her injury, and the alcohol was bound to overwhelm her.

They'd been talking for hours and Jade seemed like a nice enough girl, but Leia knew that Intel had to investigate her once they got back to the fleet. For now, though, she would try to be a friend to the woman who so obviously needed one.

After several minutes the water began running and then Jade stepped out of the fresher, looking rattled. She stopped suddenly when she saw Leia waiting for her, and shifted awkwardly.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright," Leia said.

"I'm fine," Jade said, brushing past her without a second glance, acting so incredibly different from how she'd been just minutes ago.

Leia followed, undeterred. "You were sick."

"I'm well aware of that," Jade snapped.

"Do you need any medicine?"

"No, what I need is to be left alone."

"Sorry," Leia apologized, not meaning it at all. "You'll be bunking in my room, by yourself, if that's any consolation."

"That's not necessary, I can sleep in the hold."

"No, you need to sleep in a bed."

"I am _not _kicking Princess Leia Organa out of her own bed—"

"But you will deny a direct order from the heir to the throne of your home planet?" Leia interrupted, gracing Jade with a small smile. "I might have to question your dedication to the Royal House of Alderaan."

Jade looked at the ground, twisting her toe awkwardly. "Look, I'm sorry for snapping at you. You're right; I just got overwhelmed."

Leia started; had she voiced her concerns that Jade was overwhelmed? She shook her head. Of course she had; how else would Jade know that she'd thought that? "That's completely understandable. And exactly why I want you to get a good night's sleep in a comfortable bed—well, as comfortable as you can get on the _Falcon_, anyway."

Jade chuckled softly. "You're right. I think I'll go to bed now. I'm pretty tired."

"I'll help you get settled."

After a few minutes, Jade was ready to get changed and Leia made to leave, but Jade called out to her before she could go. The younger woman was staring at her blankly, wringing an old shirt with her hands. "How did you deal with it?"

Leia furrowed her brow. "Deal with what?"

The redhead looked away. "With watching your world be destroyed." She turned back, her gaze suddenly intense, and Leia almost had to flinch away.

Alderaan was still a very sore subject for her, one she only discussed with Luke and Winter and Mon Mothma. She could only think of one way to respond.

"I just did," she said.

After a few moments of silence Leia left Jade alone to sleep, that suspicious feeling still niggling at the back of her mind.

It wasn't until several hours later, when she had finally settled into bed, that Leia realized Jade had asked how she felt when she watched _her_ world be destroyed…and yet Jade was supposedly from Alderaan, too.

.

Finally alone, Mara collapsed onto the bunk, trying unsuccessfully to fall asleep. She was exhausted, but was still too keyed up to sleep. Taking a deep breath, she began to immerse herself in the Force. She had never actually tried going into a healing trance before, but she had learned the basics of the skill and hoped that she'd be able to pull it off.

She was stopped by a soft knock at the door. Sensing who was standing outside, she pulled the covers closer around her and propped herself up on the bed. "Come in," she called.

Tycho entered the room, looking worried. "I heard that you got sick. I wanted to make sure you were alright."

Mara sighed and rolled her eyes. She appreciated Tycho's concern but really needed to be left alone. "Does everyone on this ship know that I barfed?" she asked in her best annoyed tone.

He shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"It's kind of embarrassing. I don't need people thinking I'm some clueless girl who can't handle her alcohol, _or_ a blaster wound."

"Oh, on the contrary, I think you would _love_ if people thought that way of you. That way you could sneak up on them when they least expect it and beat them up."

Mara couldn't keep the grin from spreading across her face. Again, Tycho knew her so very well, and yet not at all. "Don't tell my secret," she warned playfully.

He smiled back. "I wouldn't dare. Seriously, though. Are you alright?"

She faced the wall, seriously thinking about about that question for the first time. _Was_ she alright? She had just lied to the Emperor, the man who had raised her from childhood. The man who was her master, and taught her everything she knew. The man she lived for. The man who gave her purpose in life.

She had lied to him and was planning to leave the Empire that had been her home for as long she she could remember.

How could she possibly be alright?

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "My leg is sore. My head is pounding. You could say I've seen better days."

"You'll be fine in a few hours. You're a strong girl."

"If you say so."

Tycho smiled and before he could say good-bye, something made her call out to him. Something inside her didn't want him to leave.

She had been alone for so long, with only the Emperor for false comfort. Suddenly, she didn't want to be alone anymore.

He hovered over the bunk, watching her intently, and she reached out to gently touch his arm. "Stay with me tonight?" she asked.

Tycho shifted uncomfortably and Mara immediately regretted her request. He had lost his family when Alderaan was destroyed, family that included a fiancée. He thought of Mara as a younger sister, perhaps as a way to make up for the sisters he had lost, and she began to worry that he had gotten the wrong idea about her intentions. She squeezed his arm in reassurance. "I just don't want to be alone right now," she explained. "Please."

Despite his misgivings, Tycho cared too much to say no. He would never be able to deny a friend in need. Nodding, he settled down on the floor, taking an extra blanket and pillow to get comfortable. There was no way he was anywhere near comfortable on the _Falcon_'s hard floor, but he would have been sleeping on the floor anyway if he had stayed in the hold, so she didn't feel too guilty about it.

Mara dimmed the lights and began to immerse herself in the Force, pulling herself into a healing trance. Before she succumbed to blackness, she whispered, "Thank you, Tycho."


	11. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

Tycho didn't allow himself to relax until the _Millennium Falcon_ came out of hyperspace and he finally laid eyes on the fluid lines of the MC80 Star Cruiser that served as home base for the Rebel Alliance fleet.

He had made it. He had finally escaped the Empire.

Running a hand through his blond hair, he collapsed back into his chair in the cockpit. Solo had allowed him to come up front before they reverted to realspace. Tycho had wanted to see the Rebel ship with his own eyes. He had wanted to see that his promise to leave the Empire had finally become reality.

"This is for you, Nyiestra," he whispered.

Beside him, Princess Leia gave him a sympathetic look and reached out to squeeze his hand. She didn't need to say a word. The orphans of Alderaan would forever share the same pain.

When the _Millennium Falcon_ had escaped to hyperspace, Tycho shied away from the Princess, embarrassed that it had taken something as shocking as Alderaan to finally show him the true colors of the Empire. He had worried that she would think him a coward or weak. But she did not look at him with contempt, only respect. They had spoken several times throughout the journey and Tycho grew embarrassed that he had ever thought so poorly of Princess Leia Organa's character. After all, she herself had been an Imperial senator before actively serving the Rebel Alliance.

"_Home One_," she said, gesturing at the graceful starship. "Probably not as impressive as the command ships you're used to, but she serves us well."

Tycho shook his head. "She's much more preferable to my last home, that's for sure."

"What, Star Destroyers aren't cozy anymore?" Solo drawled from the captain's chair. "Do they not put mints on your pillow?"

Leia ignored him, but as they flew closer to the ship, she began speaking softly again. "Alliance Command operates from a ground base right now, but we prefer to bring new recruits directly to _Home One._" She didn't need to offer any explanation. It was much safer to bring former Imperials to a command ship that could quickly jump to hyperspace than to possibly endanger an entire ground base. And after the events on Dantooine, Tycho couldn't blame the Alliance one bit for its caution.

He'd thought about the ambush many times on the journey. Had the Empire been tipped off to their defection? It was a possibility, of course. No matter how trusting Tycho was, he had learned the hard way that others in the galaxy were not as moral and scrupulous as he aimed to be. As he was taught to be. Someone in the Rebellion could have found out their plans and notified the Empire. They _were_ offering large amounts of credits for captured and killed Rebels, and credits had a sneaky way of removing one's moral quandaries. Someone in the Empire could have notified their superiors, of course. He'd been very careful not to be found out by anyone on the _Accuser_, but there was always the possibility of someone overhearing their plans.

And, of course, someone in his group could be a mole.

He didn't want to consider that possibility, but he knew it was necessary.

The question was, who could it have been? He had known Rade for several years and the man had been questioning the Empire even longer than Tycho. Zurel was too young, too idealistic to have betrayed them. And Mara…she had been anxious and jittery for weeks and Tycho had often questioned whether or not she'd actually show up on Commenor when it was time to take their leave. He could see in her eyes that she questioned the Empire, and knew that it was hurting her greatly to do so.

But honestly, if she had been an informant, he didn't think that he'd still be alive. Mara was not the type of person to do things half measures. If she had intended to betray them, they'd all be dead.

So that left him back at square one.

Thankfully, he didn't have to solve the mystery by himself. Once on _Home One _the four defectors would certainly undergo a thorough debriefing—or, as they called it in the Empire, interrogation. Tycho didn't mind. He'd expected scrutiny from the Alliance when he made the decision to defect, and he'd gladly endure any amount of scrutiny in order to prove his intentions and be free from any future suspicions regarding his allegiance.

"We'll be landing in a few moments," Leia announced. "Why don't you tell the others to get ready?"

Tycho nodded and was on his feet before she could finish speaking. Despite all his negative feelings about the Empire, he knew that his academy training would be ingrained in his mind for as long as he lived. He hoped that he could put that training to much better use in the Alliance.

He found Mara, Rade, and Zurel strapped into the acceleration couch in the main hold. "You all ready to leave?" he asked.

Mara held up her backpack. "More than ready." She flashed him a genuine smile, and he smiled back. He was glad to see his friend acting cheerful. She'd been moody since Dantooine and he hoped that the change of scenery and immersion in the Alliance would bring her back to her usual, snarky self. Surely she'd have a fun time teaching the Rebels important lessons such as "things not to say to Mara Jade on an off-day" and "things never to say to Mara Jade if you want to keep breathing." Tycho still wondered how she'd made it off the _Accuser_ without clocking any of the lecherous ingrates whose sexists comments had made his own blood boil.

The _Falcon _touched down in the hangar with surprising grace and the four defectors followed Captain Solo, his Wookiee co-pilot, the protocol droid, and Princess Leia down the boarding ramp. Tycho imagined they looked like a motley crew emerging from the old YT-1300 and was grateful he'd at least had the foresight to keep one of his uniforms clean for his arrival at the Alliance.

A middle-aged man was waiting for them in the hangar. He had a military air about him and Tycho immediately straightened.

They came to a stop and the man surveyed them impassively. "Gentlemen." He paused to look at Mara. "Ma'am. Welcome to the Rebel Alliance. I am General Airen Cracken, director of Alliance Intelligence. For the next several days you will be reporting directly to us while we debrief you regarding the Dantooine mission. We will ask that you surrender your weapons until further notice. Is that disagreeable to anyone?"

They all shook their heads.

"Good, then this process should be relatively painless. Right now, however, we'd like you to go to your temporary quarters and get freshened up. Have a meal in the mess. We'll call for you when we are ready to begin your debriefing."

Rade raised a hand. "How will we contact you, sir?"

The general gestured to a young woman who was entering the hangar. "Agent Retrac will be your escort while you are undergoing the debriefing process. She can answer all your questions and you are not to go anywhere on the ship without her accompaniment. Is that understood?"

Tycho and the others nodded. General Cracken seemed warier than he might normally be following a routine pick-up, but Tycho supposed the man had a good reason for to be suspicious. After all, their mission had not been routine at all.

"Then you are dismissed," Cracken said.

Tycho and the others saluted as the general left the hangar. The young woman with shimmering hair stepped forward and nodded regally. She wore a simple jumpsuit but had a very dignified air about her, similar to Princess Leia. "Hello," she said. Her voice was soft but commanding. "You may call me Winter. This way, please."

.

.

Luke stared in disappointed silence as Winter escorted Mara Jade and the other defectors from the hangar. He'd hoped that he would have the chance to speak with her upon their arrival at _Home One_, before she got swept up into the inevitable debriefings, but apparently their talk would have to wait.

Against his better judgment, he'd been thinking about her non-stop since escaping Dantooine. Her expression when she'd locked eyes with him in his X-wing, when he'd secretly been yelling at her to run, had been burned into his mind. She had heard him through the Force, the way he had heard Ben since his mentor had died on the Death Star. And that had brought on a thousand questions: did Mara know that she was Force sensitive? Had she been trained? If so, by whom? Were her parents Jedi? If she knew she could use the Force, why had she joined the Empire? He couldn't stop thinking of questions. He _had _to speak with her.

And, unfortunately, Luke couldn't deny that he'd felt a spark of attraction when he'd grasped Mara's hand. He'd dismissed it at the time, thinking it was just adrenaline from the battle or lingering shock that she was Force sensitive, but during the long hyperspace flight back to _Home One_, he could no longer deny his feelings. He'd barely spoken to the woman and he was already smitten.

Luke rolled his eyes at himself as he pulled off his helmet. This was all great. Just wonderful. He'd _finally _gotten over Leia after months of mooning over her. He really didn't need to start pining over another woman who wouldn't give him the time of day, especially when he had lots of other more important things to worry about.

Such as expanding Rogue Flight to Rogue Squadron. And, not to mention, talking to Mara Jade about the Force.

Yeah, that would be _really _easy to do when he couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful she was. If she was trained in the Force, she'd smack him before he could even say a word.

Luke was just about ready to start banging his head against his flight console when a thick mop of brown hair suddenly appeared next to his cockpit. It belonged to none other than Wes Janson, who, as usual, was sporting a mischievous smile. "Well hello there, Commander Skywalker. We were wondering, were you planning on conducting our mission debriefing from your cockpit? If so, I can rally up the others and get them to stand at attention around your X-wing."

"Oh shut up," Luke retorted, pushing Wes off the ladder.

The Taanab native was too fast, however, and managed to hold on to the ladder with both hands. He leaned in conspiratorially. "Don't worry, boss. I won't tell the others that you were staring at Jade all googly-eyed since you landed."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Luke protested, putting on his best "commander" voice. Yeah, it didn't sound convincing at all.

Another head, this one with lighter brown hair, appeared behind Wes. "I told you Luke, I want first dibs on this one!" Dack admonished playfully. He wagged his finger. "Come on, you're the 'Destroyer of the Death Star.' If _you_ come on to her, none of us will even stand a chance!"

"You guys have got it all wrong, okay? I don't like her," Luke said. He didn't even have to pretend to be angry. He really didn't need his pilots annoying him about Mara. He was dwelling on the situation enough on his own, wondering how he could talk to her about the Force and still keep possibilities open for any kind of future relationship. Not that he ever thought something like that would seriously happen. He had never understood where his pilots got the idea that women threw themselves at him. Things like that _never_ happened to him. And certainly Mara Jade was much too beautiful to ever consider going out with a guy like him. Although, it was nice to dream about.

The tag team of Wes and Dack wouldn't let up. Over the past several months, Wes had taken Dack under his wing and taught the young Rogue all about pulling pranks and annoying people. Normally, Luke was amused by their antics, but now he just wished they'd go annoy someone else. He glanced around the hangar for Wedge. As executive officer, it should be his duty to distract the two jokesters.

"The little one is right, boss," Wes said. "You need to give us a chance with the redhead. Although, considering that you rescued her ever so dramatically, we probably don't even stand a chance to begin with."

"Are you going to reenact the rescue for us?" Dack asked eagerly. "Maybe I could learn from you and then I could finally get a girl!"

Luke gave him a plaintive look. "Why are you doing this? Aren't you supposed to be my wingman?"

"Yes! Exactly! And your job as the superior pilot is to look out for my rookie ass. So why don't you help me out on this one, and bow out gracefully?"

Now Luke did start banging his head against the flight console.

"Come on boys, let's leave the commander alone," Luke heard Zev's voice carry up into the cockpit. Luke breathed a sigh of relief as the older Rogue peeled Wes and Dack off the ladder and shoved them to the ground.

"Thanks, Zev. Remind me to reward you for this."

Zev flashed a smile. "Don't worry, I won't forget." He grabbed Wes and Dack by the scruffs of their necks and led them out of the hangar. Hobbie, eager to stay out of trouble, quickly followed.

"Oh, and by the way," Luke called after them. "You all better shower before coming near me again. You stink like wet Wookiees!"

"I'm sure you don't smell any better yourself, boss," Wedge pointed out. He was standing by his own X-wing, which was next to Luke's.

Luke sniffed his armpits and made a face. Perhaps it was a good thing that he hadn't been able to talk to Mara right away… "I know," he said to his friend, "and that's why my first order of business is to get in the shower."

Wedge feigned shock. "Even before eating? You must really stink. Perhaps it's a good thing you didn't get a chance to talk to the redhead."

Luke stared incredulously at his friend, wondering if Wedge had somehow been able to read his mind. _Nah,_ he thought. _He's just a Corellian._

_.  
><em>

Wedge watched with interest as Wes and Dack teased Luke for his dramatic rescue of Mara Jade. Normally Wedge would consider it his duty to be right there with them, making things as awkward for Luke as possible, but there was a potential disaster brewing and it needed to be cut off at the pass. Because despite all of Luke's protests, there was something different in his bright blue eyes. Wedge was certain that Luke was already smitten with the new Rebel. It was the Princess Leia situation all over again.

In other times, Wedge would encourage Luke to go for it; Luke could certainly use some downtime with a lady friend. But it couldn't be Mara Jade, not if Luke's plans for the TIE pilots came true. Wedge felt absolutely horrible doing this…but he had no other choice. It was his job, as Luke's XO and as his best friend.

He waited by the ladder for Luke to climb down, then draped his arm over his friend's shoulders. "Ugh," Luke groaned, pinching his nose dramatically. "Didn't I just order you guys to get cleaned up before coming near me again?"

"You certainly did."

Luke grinned. "Then clearly I need to write you up for insubordination."

Wedge ignored the smile and turned to face his friend. "Luke, we need to talk about Jade."

The grin faded. "Well, now I'm _really_ going to write you up for insubordination."

"Look, just hear me out—"

Luke shook his head exasperatedly and pushed Wedge away. "It's not like that! How many times do I have to say it? I have no intentions of being anything other than her commanding officer. Okay?"

Wedge nodded, fully aware that Luke was lying through his teeth, but decided to let the young man continue deluding himself. Perhaps it would be better that way. "Okay. That's good."

"Good?" Luke gave him a confused look. "I would have expected you of all people to be encouraging me to ask her out. Or have you finally given up on your quest to get me a girl?"

The Corellian let out a heavy sigh. "Normally, I _would _encourage you. But you can't ask her out, Luke, even if you really wanted to. Not if she becomes your subordinate."

Luke's eyes widened in realization. "Right," he said after a few moments. "Well. I guess it's a good thing I'm not attracted to her, right?"

"I'm really sorry, Luke." Wedge patted his friend on the arm.

Luke shrugged him off nonchalantly. "There's nothing to be sorry for. I don't have time for that stuff anyway, and this makes other things much clearer."

"What things?" Wedge asked, but Luke was already leaving the hangar, lost in thought.

.

.

.

Leia had been pulled into the small briefing room as soon as the _Falcon _landed to give her unofficial report of the mission to Dantooine. General Cracken and General Rieekan sat back in their chairs, looking dismayed as Leia described the ambush and subsequent escape.

"I've got to hand it to you, Princess," Rieekan said. "You certainly have a knack for getting yourself out of life and death situations."

"Yes, well." Leia shifted in her chair. "I can't take all the credit. Captain Solo deserves his share of thanks."

"It's a pity he won't accept a military commission," Rieekan said.

Leia nodded, eyes downcast. "Yes, it is." She suddenly couldn't stop thinking about her last argument with Han in the _Falcon_'s cockpit…the way his hand had felt on her arm…the way his breath felt on her mouth…

She had pulled away from him, sensing his intentions. Yet she couldn't help but wonder what she would have done if he had pulled her to him and kissed her before she could leave the cockpit.

She closed her eyes, pushing those thoughts out of her mind. She _was _out of her mind. She had a job to do. She could dwell on Han later. As she always did.

Damn the man.

"You think this woman, Lieutenant Jade, could be an informant?" Cracken asked. They had, of course, discussed all the various ways that the Empire could have been tipped off to the mission, and Leia had felt obligated to confide her feelings about Mara Jade.

Leia nodded in confirmation. "As I said, I got a bad feeling when we first arrived. I realize my combat sense isn't as honed as others, so it could mean nothing. It could have just been my anxiety getting the best of me." Leia didn't want to condemn Jade if the woman really had just been jittery about her upcoming defection, but it was Leia's duty to be as thorough as possible in her reports. The Alliance military would certainly give Jade a fair chance to prove her worth, even if Leia did have some suspicions.

"Still, it is something we should look into," Cracken said. As the head of Intelligence, he was keenly aware of the threats of espionage that constantly plagued the Alliance. Even if the Imperial attack had been a complete coincidence, there was still a possibility that one of the pilots was a spy for the Empire. Which, of course, was why they'd returned to _Home One_ and not the Thila base. "We'll be pulling them in for debriefing as soon as we finish here. So far, all her records check out clear."

"Right," Leia said. Of course they'd check out clear even if they had been tampered with. Jade was from Alderaan, and all the planetary records had been destroyed. Jade's only existing records now came directly from the Imperial academy, and if she was a spy, she could certainly falsify those records without anyone in the Alliance ever being the wiser.

"We'll let you know what we find out, Princess. Or would you prefer to be involved in the debriefings?" Rieekan asked.

"No, that's fine," Leia responded, grateful that they'd even thought to consider her. Sometimes it seemed that she was gaining respect in the Alliance on a daily basis.

She stood up and shook the generals' hands, then left the briefing room, lost in thought. She needed to find Luke and talk to him about Jade. She valued Luke's opinion most of all in the Alliance…and certainly he would be able to tell if the woman was involved in any sort of treachery.

.

.

.

Finally clean, Luke was enjoying a meal in the mess—well, enjoying was probably not the correct word, as the food wasn't that spectacular (better than ration bars, at least, and Luke would eat anything) and Wes and Dack were still teasing him about Mara Jade. Apparently, nothing could deter Wes and Dack when they were on a rampage, not even threats of kitchen duty and scrubbing down the X-wings. Luke decided to let them roll with it and hoped that they'd soon grow tired of harassing their commanding officer and set their sights on a new target...like Hobbie. Perhaps Luke could bribe the accident-prone pilot into getting sent to the bacta tank again.

Wedge, to his credit, finally pulled the two pranksters out of the mess, giving Luke some peace and quiet with Hobbie and Zev. Hobbie told them about his time at the academy with Tycho Celchu, and had nothing but good things to say about the man's skills in a cockpit. "He was one of the best there, if not _the _best," Hobbie said. "It's just a damn shame he wouldn't defect with us."

"I'm sure he regrets it enough now," Zev said. Luke nodded somberly, recalling that Tycho was from Alderaan. The planet's destruction had caused many Imperials to finally leave for the Alliance. Luke would never, _ever _be grateful for the planet's destruction, but he was glad that the event had finally forced so many Imperials to come to terms with the truth about the Empire.

"Makes you wonder though," Hobbie mused. "Why it took something like that to convince people to defect."

"Sometimes people are too afraid to see what's right there in front of them," Zev explained. "It's not until they're smacked in the face with something awful, like Alderaan, when they can't ignore it anymore."

"I guess," Hobbie replied. The three pilots spoke for a little while longer, until Zev and Hobbie finished eating and left Luke alone at the table. He ate leisurely for a few minutes until Leia walked in. Her brown eyes searched the mess, then she spotted him and hurried over.

"I was hoping to find you," she said, giving him a hug. Luke returned her embrace, relieved that he finally could feel completely comfortable around his friend. He didn't know what he would have done if he hadn't gotten over his farmboy crush when he did. He had always been so nervous around her and it had been getting in the way of their friendship. Of course, with Mara in the picture now, he probably wouldn't have found it that hard to forget about Leia. Especially when Leia was so obviously mooning, in her own special way, over Han.

Not that Luke would ever say such a thing to her face, of course.

"What's up?" he asked, offering her a piece of flatbread. She accepted it gratefully and waited until she was finished chewing to speak.

"I need you to do me a big favor," she said in her best diplomatic tone.

"Sure, anything."

"I need you to question Mara Jade."

Luke blinked. He had not been expecting that. "Um…why me?" he asked. "Isn't Intelligence conducting their debriefings?"

"Yes, but…I thought you might be able to offer some insight. With the Force." She looked at him with intense eyes and Luke felt a pang of insecurity. It was bad enough that he held on to his own expectations about how he should be acting as a Jedi. Now other people in the Alliance were expecting him to be much more powerful in the Force than he was. Expectations on the battlefield, he could handle. But this was a whole 'nother ball game.

"I really don't know, Leia. You know I haven't had much time to train…"

Leia shook her head at him. "You've always been a good judge of character, as long as I've known you. It has nothing to do with whether or not you've trained. Just…use the same instincts you always have, and let me know what you think of her."

Luke nodded. "Okay…but why do you want me to do this? Do you suspect her of anything?"

"I got a bad feeling about her when we arrived," Leia said, almost apologetically.

"You think she had something to do with the ambush," Luke accused.

The Princess looked at him sharply. "Perhaps. But I can't be certain. That's why I'd like your input."

"I didn't feel anything malicious from her at all, Leia. In fact, I think she could be a great asset to the Alliance." He hoped that he didn't sound too eager, but apparently he had failed.

Leia stared at him blankly for a moment, then shook her head in disbelief. "Dammit," she spat.

"What?"

"I hate it when he's right."

"When who's right? What are you talking about?"

Leia looked back at him, eyebrows raised. "You _like _her."

Luke sighed and placed his head in his hands, rubbing his temples. "Oh, not you, too," he moaned.

"What?"

"I've already got Wes and Dack giving me shavit about her. I really don't need you of all people to get on my case."

"Do you like her?" Leia demanded, not letting up.

"I don't even know her!" Luke protested, probably a little too strongly. "Sheesh, I save one woman's life and all of a sudden I'm in love with her."

Thankfully, Leia was diplomatic enough not to point out what happened the last time Luke rescued someone. "Well, she is a very pretty girl," she pointed out instead.

"Do you want me to like her or not, Leia?"

Leia held out a hand in supplication. "Okay, okay. Forget I said anything. But please, just talk to her. See if you sense anything odd or suspicious. I'd really appreciate it." She smiled at him, and Luke had to shake his head at her ability to get anybody to agree to anything. He was pretty sure that Leia Organa could get him to jump through fire if she asked nicely. It was no wonder that she had become a senator at the age of eighteen.

"Okay," Luke sighed. "I'll try."

"Thank you," Leia said, squeezing his hand. "And seriously, Luke, as your friend? Don't get in over your head."

Now Luke was the one to raise his eyebrows. "Oh, _you_ should talk."

Leia gave him an annoyed look, the kind of look a sister would give a brother. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing." Luke grabbed his tray and rose from the table. "See you later, Leia," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

As he was depositing his trash in the receptacle, he felt a spark of recognition in the Force…and he turned around and spotted Mara Jade entering the mess, flanked by the three other pilots and Agent Retrac. The young woman's green eyes locked on his as she stepped through the threshold…

She offered him a small smile and headed to collect some food. Luke almost decided to eat another meal so he could talk to her now…but he merely smiled at her in return before leaving the mess.

He'd let her eat in peace. He could talk to her later, alone, and do his best to placate Leia's suspicions.

And, eventually, he would also ask her about the Force.


	12. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

It took three days before Leia finally called in her favor. Luke had just finished a short briefing with the Rogues and was looking forward to some downtime, in which he would finally get in some much needed lightsaber practice, but he quickly ignored his plans as soon as he received Leia's comm. He realized he was acting ridiculous, being so excited to talk to this woman he barely knew, but he didn't care. He had tried many times over the past three days to start a conversation with Mara, but she was always either stuck in debriefings or surrounded by the other pilots and Winter. The few times they'd exchanged words, she had seemed closed off and distant. Luke wondered if that was because she was embarrassed about having to be rescued, as she seemed like a strong woman who would hate appearing to be so weak, or if she just wanted to avoid him. Whatever the reason, it made his stubborn streak flare and he grew even more determined to find out what was going on behind her enigmatic green eyes.

As he hurried to meet Leia, he wondered how Mara would react to their conversation. He'd been so certain that they had shared something special on the Dantooine plains...and now he had no idea what would happen between them. Luke's rescue of Leia had spawned an amazing friendship, but Mara was different than any other woman he'd ever met, and he didn't expect her to throw her arms around him in thanks any time soon. Not that he would mind if she did, of course...

Luke groaned as he quickened his pace. He really needed to put those thoughts out of his mind. As Wedge had said, Luke couldn't think such things about Mara. He wanted her for the expanded Rogue Squadron, so that was that.

Besides, even if he could ask her out, she'd probably turn him down.

He crossed through the doorway of the observation room and found Leia staring through a transparisteel window. Mara sat at a durasteel table on the other side of the window, her head propped on her hands and looking entirely bored. She glanced at the window as Luke came in the room and he stiffened, but Leia shook her head. "It's two-way. It's a mirror on her side. She can't see anything."

Luke tore his eyes from the redhead to give Leia a brief hug. He didn't say what he was thinking: _She can sense that I'm here._

It would be an understatement to say he was disappointed that Leia would be watching their conversation. He definitely would not be able to speak to Mara about her abilities in the Force with someone listening in. Luke had argued that he be allowed to speak to Mara in private, saying that having an audience would make him uncomfortable, but Leia had insisted that someone needed to observe the conversation for security purposes. Luke begrudgingly accepted the stipulation as long as Leia would be the observer.

"You ready?" Leia asked.

Luke took a deep breath. He was more than ready to talk to Mara, but not under these circumstances. "Ready as I'll ever be." Leia squeezed his hand in support and he left to face the woman on the other side of the window.

As he walked through the doorway, Luke had to force himself not to stare at Mara. She was sporting plain coveralls and her hair was pulled back in a loose braid. She looked like every other female tech that Luke had ever met...but different. Even though she was unarmed, she projected the aura that she could hurt someone very badly with her bare hands. Somehow, that made her even more intriguing.

She nodded at him as he entered the room, raising one red gold eyebrow as she looked him up and down. He wore a plain gray shirt and pants, and now he wished that he had chosen to wear something nicer, maybe something more colorful. Not that he had many nice outfits, but what he was wearing suddenly seemed woefully inadequate now that he was standing in front of her.

Gods, she was beautiful.

Taking a deep breath and again pushing those thoughts out of his mind, he took the seat across from her. They regarded each other in silence for several moments.

.

Skywalker entered the room and sat across from her, his sense in the Force overwrought with nervousness and insecurity, but also determination. In a way, he reminded her of the overeager Academy graduates she'd run into at Palpatine's court, and yet he wasn't like them at all. He was eager to earn her approval...but not for his own gain. He just wanted to talk to her, and learn about her, and perhaps be her friend.

They stared at each other intently and, against all her better judgment, she found herself becoming lost in his eyes. They were a sparkling, clear blue, purer than anything she'd ever seen before in her life—and she'd seen a lot. It was magnetic, the way they pulled her in, the honesty that glowed there, the hope promised.

She couldn't _not _look at them. She dove into the orbs as she would a lake, headfirst, and it was powerful and she pushed up, trying to tread water.

She blinked and she could breathe again.

He was incredibly strong in the Force and he was so oblivious to that fact. He was young and naïve and a wonderful pilot. His talent in the Force was raw and unbridled.

It was no wonder why Vader desired to find him. Mara had met captive Jedi in the Palace, and had come across several on her missions across the galaxy. They had all been strong in the Force, but nowhere near as strong as Skywalker.

This boy felt as powerful as Vader—as Palpatine, even. She hadn't thought such a thing was possible.

And yet he fidgeted and questioned himself and tried so hard…and he had absolutely no idea of what he could be.

Mara shook her head and reminded herself to shield. Skywalker may be untrained, but she had been taught never to underestimate an opponent. And as long as she held on to her secret, that's what he was—an opponent, an enemy. Soon she'd leave the Rebellion and escape into the galaxy on her own, and then everyone would be her enemy.

But something about this man captivated her and reeled her in...and, for the first time, she wondered what would happen if she stayed.

.

Her eyes were absolutely captivating. They were a sparkling, clear green, more intense than anything he'd ever seen before in his life—not that he'd seen a lot before coming into the Alliance. Before arriving on Yavin IV he'd never even seen such a color in person. Plants did not grow in the desert and such color dyes were much too expensive for simple moisture farmers. Even the affluent Darklighters could not afford such flamboyantly colored clothing.

Uncomfortable under his gaze, she looked away from him and then he blinked, forcing himself to look away, too.

He couldn't ignore Mara's strength in the Force. It was similar to what he'd felt from Ben Kenobi, yet different. Luke still could not tell if she had been trained, but he had to find out. There was too much at stake. She could help him…and he could help her. He knew it.

_That can wait,_ he admonished himself. He had a job to do, a job he'd promised Leia. Besides, Mara was so closed off that he would never be able to convince her to confide in him without putting a lot of effort into gaining her trust.

He would, though. He didn't mind. He wasn't a patient person, but for her…something told him it would be worth the wait.

Another Jedi. He wouldn't have to be alone anymore.

The thought made him smile.

Finally, after several long moments, he extended his hand. Putting on his most brilliant smile, he said, "Hi, I'm Luke Skywalker. I don't know if you remember me."

She narrowed her eyes at his hand before accepting it. "Yeah, I remember. It was my leg that got injured, not my head."

He frowned. "I didn't mean to offend."

"Forget it."

Luke ignored her prickly disposition; she was probably just sick of debriefings and repeating the same things over and over again. Luke couldn't really blame her. He'd probably feel the same way if he was in her position. He suddenly felt very guilty for agreeing to do this.

"So, they got you to interrogate me as well?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

He shifted uncomfortably. "Um, yeah. I mean, no. There's no interrogation. I'm just here to talk."

"Uh-huh. And they picked your name out of a helmet just on coincidence, right?"

"What?"

She leaned forward. "I know why they wanted you to talk to me."

"You do?" Luke couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. He didn't expect her to talk about the Force while they were being monitored.

"I'm not stupid." She pointed across the table towards his waist. "You have a lightsaber. That means you're a Jedi."

Oh, right. Of course.

She glanced over at the mirror. "Princess Leia is suspicious of me, and she's friends with you, so she figured that you could work your magic and find out if I'm lying or not."

Luke nodded, seeing no point in hiding the truth. His honesty might make her more willing to confide in him, after all. "Well, I'm not officially a Jedi. Not yet, at least. But I guess you're right; Leia did ask me to speak with you."

"And? Am I lying?" Again she raised an eyebrow. It appeared to be her default facial expression.

He shrugged. "I'm just here to talk."

"Okay." She sat back in her chair, arms folded defensively across her chest. "Let's talk. What do you want to know?"

General Cracken had provided Luke with a datapad full of questions to ask, but instead of reaching for it he closed his eyes and stretched out with the Force. After a moment, he looked at her again. She hadn't moved, but something in her expression had changed. She looked…expectant, almost. Curious.

Had she sensed what he had just done?

Leia had asked Luke to speak to Mara because he could use the Force…and that's what he would do. Intelligence had already asked all the mundane questions. Luke realized that he had been telling the absolute truth before—he was just there to talk. With the Force, that was all that was necessary for him to find his answers.

And maybe even without the Force, too.

Finally, he settled on an approach. "How're you feeling?"

Her expression didn't change this time, but he could sense her surprise. She had obviously been expecting, and preparing for, more hard-hitting questions. "Um…fine, I guess. Really sick of all these debriefings."

"I can imagine."

"I doubt it. I bet you didn't have to go through all of these when you arrived."

"How would you know?"

"Everyone talks about you, don't you know? I got the full story my first night here: Luke Skywalker shows up out of nowhere, rescues the Princess, and kills the bad guys. I'm sure there will be a million holos about it one day."

Luke blanched; he had never thought of such a possibility. Did people really talk about him that much? Why would people in the galaxy ever be interested in his story? He was just a guy from a moisture farm who got a lucky shot.

Well, Wedge had always told him that he was much too modest about his accomplishments. Perhaps his best friend was right. Maybe that lack of confidence was what was holding back Luke's growth in the Force.

Maybe.

He shrugged sheepishly, deciding, for once, not to downplay his accomplishments. "I did do all that stuff. But I'm not so sure about the holos."

She chuckled. "Maybe _I _should have rescued Princess Leia, instead of being the one to get rescued. Then I wouldn't have had to go through this torture."

"So talking to me is torture, huh?"

Her lips curled into a teasing smirk. "I'm not sure yet."

Luke couldn't help but smile in return. Mara Jade was certainly different than any woman he'd ever met. "Intelligence did talk to me once, but that was about it. We've had a lot more espionage since then though, so General Cracken has gotten more wary."

"Really?" Her demeanor changed in an instant. "How many spies? Did you ever determine their identities?"

"There were a good number, and we think we got them all. But then again, if we knew for sure then they wouldn't be very good spies, now would they?"

"You have no idea."

Something in her statement gave him pause...but just for a moment. He tilted his head. "What do you think about the Alliance?"

"I don't really know what to think yet. It's very different from the Empire, that's for sure."

"I'd've thought that you would be glad to be here."

Her expression shifted again, just slightly. "I am," she whispered. Then stronger, "I am. It's just a shock, all the differences. Planning to leave the Empire for so long, then actually doing it. I keep waking up, expecting to be in my own bed."

"Now that I can definitely relate to."

"Yeah? What's your story?"

Now Luke was the one to raise an eyebrow. "Shouldn't I be asking you the questions?"

"Yes, but you always get more answers when you answer questions of your own."

"I didn't realize that the Empire cross-trained its TIE pilots in interrogation techniques."

"Well, I'm just as good at interrogation as I am at flying TIEs. You never know when you're going to have to question an enemy."

Luke chuckled. "Perhaps you should be in Intelligence."

"Perhaps I should. Why don't you talk to General Cracken about that?"

"I would, except I want you to be in my squadron."

Again her red gold eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Can you fly an X-wing?"

She grinned slyly. "I can fly anything."

"I'm sure you can."

"So." Mara leaned forward, her elbows on the table. "Your story?"

"You are good, not letting me deflect your question."

"I am good. So let's hear your answer. You're the one who wanted to talk."

"Okay," Luke agreed, taking a deep breath. And he did talk, telling Mara about his childhood on Tatooine, meeting Ben Kenobi and leaving for Alderaan, escaping the Death Star and destroying the battle station. She listened intently, as if she hadn't already heard the story. In normal circumstances, he would probably find her scrutiny unsettling...but now he only found it intriguing.

"So you're a farm boy," she said. She gave a throaty laugh that sent shivers down Luke's spine. "That actually makes perfect sense."

"I was, I guess."

"I've always heard you can take the boy off the farm, but you can't take the farm out of the boy."

"If you say so."

She looked him up and down; again, a gesture that he would normally have found unsettling. "I do, Farmboy."

He could feel himself flush and then grew quiet, aware that their conversation had not proceeded at all the way he had planned. But yet, his sense of the Force was as clear as ever. He knew, somehow, that she had been completely genuine in their conversation. He sensed no treachery from her, no deception. He knew that he, and the Alliance, could trust her.

He asked one final question, even though he already knew the answer: "Are you a spy?"

She held his gaze for long seconds, not uttering a sound, but still he did not doubt. Finally, she shook her head slowly. "No. I'm not."

Luke nodded. "I believe you." And he did; he was more certain of her honesty than he'd ever been of anything before in his life.

She glanced down, studying her hands resting on the table. "Why?" she asked in a small voice.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Well." She leaned back, once again putting on that sarcastic aura of self-confidence. "I guess if you believe me, then I must be telling the truth, huh?"

"I guess so."

Mara turned to the window. "So can I go now?" she asked, as much to Leia as to him.

Luke gestured to the door. "You can leave whenever you want." Looking relieved, she pushed her chair away from the table—

"Unless you'd like to continue our conversation?" he continued.

For a moment, he thought she'd agree…but then she stood and pushed her braid back over her shoulder. "I should head back to my room before Agent Retrac gets antsy. Maybe later though," she added, and Luke wondered if he had looked disappointed at her refusal.

He didn't care if he had.

"I hope so," he said. "And don't forget—I want you to try out for Rogue Squadron."

She grinned. "I look forward to showing you what I've got."

Luke grinned in return and stayed seated as Mara to the door. "Hey," he said, turning around and glancing at her leg. He looked up and met her questioning gaze. "You're not limping."

Almost imperceptibly, her perfect composure wavered...but then it was back, as if nothing had happened. "Yeah, so?"

"Well, I know it was several days ago, but Leia said your blaster burn was pretty nasty looking. I didn't think you'd had a chance to get to the medcenter yet."

She shrugged, disinterested, and Luke could feel her Force sense close off abruptly. "Didn't need to. I heal quickly."

Luke held her gaze, knowing that she was hiding something. "Really?"

She stared back at him, just as intense. "Yes, really." Her disposition had changed in a millisecond. "Is there anything else you'd like to ask me, Commander Skywalker?"

Slowly, he shook his head. "No, nothing at all," he lied.

"Good." She turned to leave, and then glanced back over her shoulder. "Thank you for the conversation," she said, perfectly sincere.

Luke sighed as the door closed behind her. He was still certain that she wasn't a spy, but now he knew that Mara Jade held many secrets close to her heart.

His stubborn streak flaring once again, he vowed to find out what they were, no matter what.

.

Leia waited sixty seconds after Mara left before entering the briefing room. Luke was still seated at the table with an unreadable expression. She took the now-empty seat.

"That was interesting," she said without preamble.

"Was it?" Luke said absently.

"You really trust her?"

"I do."

Leia leaned back in the chair and sighed. "Well, if you think there's nothing odd going on, I guess I was just overreacting."

Luke looked at her sharply. "Really?"

"Of course." Leia nodded. "I asked you to speak with her for a reason. I trust your judgment. I'll go tell General Cracken that the four of them should be cleared for active duty."

Luke returned her nod and smiled. "That's great. That's really great."

"Yes, it is. But Luke—" She reached across the table to take his hand, and he met her eyes in question. "Just watch yourself, okay?"

He rolled his eyes. "Have you been talking to Wedge?"

"No, why?"

Luke shook his head and rose from the table. "Remind me to never let the two of you get alone. You'd be controlling my life within five minutes."

"He's your XO; isn't that his job?"

"You're right. What's your excuse?"

Leia linked her arm with his. "It's my prerogative as the _first _woman you rescued."

"Ah Leia, you're like the sister I never had and never wanted."

She rolled her eyes and pushed him out the door.

.

.

.

After three days of intense debriefings, during which time Mara was forced to recall every detail of her life—all of which were fabricated, of course—the four defectors finally got wind that they would be cleared for active duty. Mara didn't know what to think. She was relieved, of course, that she had managed to fool the Alliance leadership. But she also knew that now she was one step closer to heading out into the galaxy on her own. It shouldn't have bothered her so much; she had spent the past several years of her life on missions where she was utterly alone, with only a protocol droid for companionship. And when she did stay at the Palace, she was never content; she was always restless, waiting for her next mission. Finally away from Palpatine's influence, Mara began to wonder if the reason she had once longed to be away from the Palace was because she preferred the freedom she had while on her own, as opposed to the oppressive nature of the Palace under Palpatine's rule.

In just a few short days, she had learned that the Rebel Alliance was nothing at all like the Empire she had grown up with. There was a sense of camaraderie in the air and, even though the Rebel soldiers seemed competent, they didn't mind letting their hair down and having a good time. They did their jobs, and then they had fun. She'd observed Rogue Flight joking around in the mess several times, and couldn't believe that such an elite fighter group could act like such children. But Tycho had said they were the best, and Mara believed him...they were just so unlike the Empire's counterpart, the 181st. Soontir Fel and Luke Skywalker were so different, yet Mara had caught glimpses of Skywalker in the sims and already could tell that he was just as good a pilot as Vader. Maybe even better. But he was, as Mara had proclaimed him, a farm boy, completely unassuming and good-natured and genuinely concerned about her well being. She could sense that during their brief conversations, and especially during his "interrogation" of her. In a previous life, Mara would have considered him beneath her standards and wouldn't have given him the time of day, but things were different now. Skywalker was different. And more than that, he could use the Force.

She knew that, eventually, he was going to corner her and ask her about her abilities. She had absolutely no idea how she would answer. She hoped that she'd be long gone before he ever got the opportunity.

Shortly after her conversation with Skywalker, the former Imperials were escorted by Winter to one of the larger briefing rooms. General Cracken, General Rieekan, and Princess Leia were already there, waiting patiently. They four TIE pilots sat across the table from the Rebel leaders and Mara had to work hard suppress her smile, knowing what was about to happen.

"Gentlemen, ma'am," General Cracken greeted them. "We thank you for your patience during these debriefings. We know that they can be trying, but unfortunately, in such times, they are necessary."

General Rieekan stood up; Mara and the others immediately followed suit. "By the authority of Mon Mothma, I hereby confer on you the rank of lieutenant in the Alliance to Restore the Republic. May the Force be with you." He reached forward to each of them in turn, pressing the appropriate rank pips onto the collars of their plain clothes. Mara ran her fingers over them, with absolutely no idea how to feel at the moment. She glanced over at Tycho, who had rare tears in his eyes.

When Rieekan was done they all snapped salutes, their Imperial training shining forth in their precision. With the formalities finished, they began shaking hands and offering congratulations. Princess Leia even approached Mara and gave her a warm hug, Skywalker's assurances having quelled all her suspicions.

As his name went through her mind, Mara felt that familiar presence enter the room. She turned to see Rogue Leader duck through the doorway, nodding at the generals and Leia in apology for being late. He walked through the crowd to offer his congratulations to the new Rebels.

The last person he came to was Mara. The two of them stood facing each other for long seconds, until he finally took her hand. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Jade," he said softly.

"Thank you, Commander Skywalker," she replied. And then, because he was now her superior officer, she snapped a salute.

He returned it, an odd expression on his face—a mixture of disappointment, regret, and, hidden deep within his bright blue eyes, so deep that only Mara, with her keen sense of the Force, could recognize it—

There was hope.


	13. Chapter 12

_**A/N:**__ Thanks go to __**Lane_Winree**__ for his assistance with the dogfighting in this chapter. _

_.  
><em>

CHAPTER 12

.

"Mara?"

With a loud _smack_, Mara smashed her palm down on the red button, stopping her preferred treadmill in the gym. Turning to the door, she saw Tycho standing there. "Hey, what's up?" she said, breathing heavily.

"Sorry to interrupt. Commander Skywalker would like us all for a briefing in fifteen minutes."

Rivulets of sweat were threatening to fall down her face, so she quickly grabbed a towel to wipe her brow. "What about?" she asked.

"Rogue Squadron, I assume."

She gave Tycho a nod. "Sure. Let me shower first. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Showering, huh?"

She couldn't ignore the hint of teasing in Tycho's voice, and shot him a harsh glare. "Yes, that's what civilized people do after a workout."

"When we were stuck in debriefings all day long, you never bothered to shower after a workout."

"Yeah, well, maybe I thought that General Cracken and everyone else deserved to smell me."

"Or maybe you just want to get freshened up for Commander Skywalker?"

Mara's eyes narrowed. "You got something to say, Celchu?" she growled.

"Yes, I do. You might want to rethink your shower. Some men find women very attractive after a workout. You know, all sweaty and disheveled."

Her arm reared back to smack him, but Tycho was too fast and he caught her hand in his. "Very funny, Tycho." She pulled her arm away.

Tycho just smiled and left the room.

After her shower, Mara stood in the mirror cursing her friend; much to her chagrin, she had begun dabbing on perfume and styling her hair in a vain attempt to look decent. Letting out a snarl, she threw down her brush and violently pulled her wet hair into a ponytail. "Kriff it," she mumbled. Why should she care about what Skywalker thought of her appearance? Foregoing the clean clothes she had brought in her duffel, she pulled on her pair of old coveralls, threw her workout clothes in her bag, and headed to the briefing room, trying and failing to put Luke Skywalker's face out her mind.

.

.

.

Mara was the last pilot to enter the briefing room. She took a seat next to Tycho and avoided Luke's gaze, which was probably a good thing as Luke could hardly keep from staring at her. She was wearing old, disheveled coveralls and looked like she had just finished a workout…but dear gods her hair was wet and Luke's mind immediately went places they should never go for fear of imminent death. Petrified that Mara had sensed his thoughts, he glanced down at his datapad and began to recite the alphabet backwards in his mind. When he got to _aurek_, he finally felt calm enough to address the group.

He was very careful not to look at Mara while he spoke.

Without preamble, he informed the four pilots exactly why he'd asked them to this briefing. For over six months, Rogue Flight had consisted of only six pilots, half of a regular squadron. Luke had never thought to expand his group until Commander Narra's suggestion, and now, with the arrival of the four TIE pilots and Narra's promise to find two additional pilots to fill out the roster, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to expand.

"Lieutenant Jade has already assured me of her ability to fly an X-wing. Would the rest of you happen to have similar experience?"

"Just the basics," Tycho said. "But we're all fast learners."

"I'm sure you are. I've already transmitted the relevant manuals to your datapads. I'd like to start working with you in the simulators as soon as possible."

Mara raised her hand, and Luke had no choice but to look at her again. "Yes, Lieutenant Jade?"

"Are we permitted to use the sims on our own time?"

"Of course. Feel free to practice whenever you like."

"Good." She smiled, and her eyes glinted as if in a challenge. Did she want to practice with him?

Well, he definitely wouldn't mind that.

She absently ran her fingers through her wet ponytail, and he once again found himself staring.

He blinked rapidly and blew out a breath.

"Um, yes. So I would like to schedule sim time at 1000 tomorrow morning. I look forward to seeing what you all can do."

Luke stayed behind the podium as the pilots filed out of the room. After the door hissed shut, he was aware of a lingering presence in the room, and was not at all surprised when he glanced up to find Mara leaning against the podium, glaring up at him expectantly.

"Um, hi," he stammered, mentally slapping himself for sounding so stupid.

"Hi," she responded. "So, what do you say?"

"What do I say about what?"

She rolled her eyes. "Come fly with me."

"Oh, um…I'm not so sure about that…"

"Why? Scared I'll beat you?"

Something in her tone of voice, and the way her green eyes flashed defiantly, brought out his very stubborn, very immature competitive streak. He may have been a squadron leader and aspiring Jedi Knight, but he was still a twenty year old boy, fresh off the farm.

He grinned. "Not at all. I just don't want to embarrass you during your first week in the Alliance. It might ruin your confidence."

"Ha!" she barked. "I would never have expected that the farm boy from Tatooine would have such a huge ego. But you are a flyboy, so I should have expected it."

He shrugged. "I'm just speaking the truth."

She grabbed his arm and began to pull him out of the room. "Let's go, then."

"What are you doing?"

"You think you can kick my ass in the sims? Prove it."

He knew he shouldn't be doing this...he wanted to make a good impression on her and beating her in the sims was not the way to do that...but her hand was so warm on his arm and there was no way he could say no. He grinned again. "You're on, Jade. You're gonna be sorry."

"I doubt it. The farm boy wouldn't dare be so rude to a lady."

"You forget, I _am _a Rogue."

She looked him up and down, a feral glint in her eyes. "I'll keep that in mind, commander."

Luke swallowed hard, wondering what the hell had gotten into him—and her!—but had absolutely no desire at all to stop this. They continued bantering—or flirting, if Luke was being honest with himself—all the way to the simulators. He was almost disappointed when the canopy lowered around him and he had to stop talking to her and actually concentrate on flying.

The runs went exactly as he expected: he vaped her five out of five times, but surprisingly, she managed to give him a run for his credits. She really was an excellent pilot…and Luke couldn't help but wonder if her ability in the Force was part of the reason for that. He could sense her mind working fast, but wasn't able to predict her movements as well as he could with other, non Force-sensitive pilots. He couldn't wait to observe her in the sims, when he didn't have to concentrating on beating her and he could focus solely on her sense in the Force.

He popped his canopy and waited for her to climb out of her sim. It was a few minutes before she finally emerged, a full-blown scowl on her face. Normally, Luke wouldn't dare tease a pilot he barely knew, but he couldn't help himself—her cheeks were flushed and her hair was disheveled and she had unzipped her coveralls while in the hot cockpit and her tank top did nothing to dissuade his suddenly overactive imagination. He opened his mouth to let out a quip—

But before he could say a word, she placed a harsh finger over his lips. "If you know what's best for you you'll keep your mouth shut, Commander Skywalker."

All thoughts of teasing flew out of his mind. Instead, he gently took her hand and met her questioning gaze. "On the contrary, Lieutenant Jade. I was going to say that you were very impressive."

She ripped her hand away. "You still beat me."

"Well. Perhaps we should spend more time in the sims. Or, if you need a break, we could have dinner…?"

She tilted her head, a blank expression on her face. "Actually, I think I should continue practicing. By myself."

"Oh. Sure."

"Is that a problem?"

Luke shifted uncomfortably. "No. Go have fun."

"I will." Without another word, she whirled around and returned to the simulator. Luke watched her gracefully climb in the cockpit, wondering at her abrupt change of demeanor. He finally turned to leave the room, trying and failing to get her face out of his mind.

He had just emerged from the hangar, lost in thought, when a strong hand suddenly grabbed him by the neck and began to drag him down the corridor. "What the—?" he exclaimed, but he stopped struggling when he realized that his handler was none other than Han. His pseudo older brother continued dragging him along without saying a word, refusing to answer Luke's questions about where they were going.

He finally got his answer when they entered a nearby hangar and saw the familiar shape of the _Millennium Falcon_ in front of them. Luke entered the ship without any prodding and took a seat at the dejarik table in the main hold, waiting for Han to speak.

And he did, with the same bluntness that Luke had come to associate with all Corellians. "We need to talk about your interactions with women."

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Across the table, Luke took a deep breath and let his head fall back against the couch. Han could almost hear the kid counting to ten. "So," Han said with a twinkle in his eye. "Do you always have to save a woman's life before you fall for her?"

"Han—"

"Because if that's the case, women might start being afraid to come around you, and that kind of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?"

"It's not like that."

"Sure, junior, that's what you've been sayin' to everyone for the past few days, but you and I both know that it's a bunch of bantha shavit. And if you _don't_ feel anything for Jade, you need to get your eyes examined, or consider the possibility that you may play for the other team."

Luke's eyes widened. _"What?"_

"I'm just sayin', you're twenty years old. If your hormones weren't raging for someone that hot, I'd worry about you."

"I don't see _you_ lusting after her," Luke retorted.

"I've got other things on my mind," Han said simply. "But stop trying to change the subject. What's the deal, kid?"

The young pilot sighed. "Promise me you won't tell anyone, Han."

"Hey, who am I gonna tell? Chewie? Luckily for you no one would understand him."

Luke managed to chuckle at that. "Come on, Luke. What's goin' on?"

"You're right, Han. I do like her. A lot. And that's the problem."

"How is that a problem? She's gorgeous, and you can't be so naïve that you haven't noticed her staring at you, too."

"Maybe…but I don't think it's for the same reasons you think."

"Whatever, it doesn't matter. You got a pretty girl to notice you and that's half the battle. So, I ask again, what's the problem?"

"I'm a commander, Han. She's a lieutenant."

"So? There's no rules against that—are there?"

"If she joins Rogue Squadron, there will be. Wedge reminded me as soon as we got back to _Home One_ that there's regulations against dating your direct subordinate."

"Why, so he could try to get into Jade's pants himself?"

"Han!" Luke admonished. "It's not like that. He's my XO. He was looking out for me."

"Alright, fine. But let me give you some advice—as your friend. If you let the Alliance military dictate your life, you deserve all the misery you get."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you, kid, risking your neck on a daily basis for these people, and you're gonna let them dictate who you can and can't ask out? What are you, an idiot?"

"It's military regulations, Han! I can't just disregard everything I don't like. I'll be kicked out."

"Oh, sure. You really think they'll kick their golden boy out of the military? If they'd do that, then they really deserve to lose this war."

"I'm not going to use their opinions about me to get what I want, Han. That's not the Jedi way."

"You ain't a Jedi, kid."

"Not yet—"

"And that's another thing." Han's eyes narrowed threateningly. "Once the Empire finds out who blew up the Death Star—and I have no idea how that hasn't happened yet—you'll be number one on every most wanted list across the galaxy. Do you really want to go around saying you're a Jedi, and give the Empire another reason to hunt you down?"

Luke shrugged. "They'd already be looking for me. What's the difference?"

"The difference is life or death, junior. The destroyer of the Death Star gets shot in the head for his crimes. A Jedi…well, I don't even want to think about what Vader would do to you."

The kid jumped up from the seat, banging his hands against the table in a rare show of anger. "I don't care! Let Vader try to find me! Just let him!"

"Whoa, Luke, what the hell has gotten into you?"

"Maybe I want Vader to find me, did you ever think of that? Maybe I want him to know I'm a Jedi! He deserves all he has coming to him and I want to be the one to kill him!"

"Whoa, Luke," Han repeated, having absolutely no idea how to deal with Luke when he was in such a rampage. The kid was manic, pacing around the hold, and Han was worried he was going to ignite his lightsaber and start slicing through the bulkheads. But after a few moments Luke suddenly stilled, taking deep breaths to calm himself. He slumped to the floor, as if the life had been drained out of him.

"Kid?" It was the only thing Han could think of to say.

"Vader killed my father, Han," Luke whispered.

Han was dumbfounded. "What?"

"You know that my father was a Jedi. Everyone believes that he was killed at the end of the Clone Wars, in the Jedi Purges, like all the others. But it's not true. Vader was Obi-Wan's apprentice, but he turned to the dark side and helped the Emperor hunt down and kill the surviving Jedi Knights. Vader betrayed and murdered my father. That's why they had to hide me."

"Damn. I'm sorry, Luke."

"All my life I was told that my father was a navigator on a spice freighter, but somehow I knew it wasn't true. I knew that there was something more…perhaps it was the Force speaking to me. When I met Ben, and he said I could use the Force, it was like something sparked deep inside of me. And when he told me that Vader killed my father, I just knew that one day I would have to face Vader and deliver justice."

Han studied his friend, aware of his deep and profound pain, but he couldn't let Luke continue with his delusions of grandeur. "Look, maybe you can use this Force, or whatever it is, but do you really think you can stand up to Darth Vader?"

"Yes." The kid didn't even hesitate.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I don't know. I just know that it's my destiny, to face Vader. That's why Ben found me. That's why I need to learn about the Force."

"Well…maybe you could wait a little while longer to do that. You know, until you're better with that." Han pointed at Luke's lightsaber. The kid smiled, and Han grinned in return, knowing that the mood had been lightened. After a few moments, Luke rose from the floor and returned to the couch.

"Sorry for getting angry," he said. "I shouldn't get angry."

"Eh, it happens."

Luke's lips thinned. "But it shouldn't."

Han didn't want to argue again, so he let the kid's devotion to the Jedi ways slide for the time being, and brought the conversation back to the original topic. "So," he said, leaning forward. "Jade."

Luke rolled his eyes. "There's nothing I can do about her, Han. I want her on my squadron. She can fly like hell, and we need pilots like her."

"I'm sure _you_ need her, alright."

"Please Han, just cut it out, okay? I need to get my mind off her and this is not helping."

"Well, good luck with that, is all I gotta say. You're never gonna stop thinking about her."

"Why do you say that?"

"'Cause she's unattainable. You put a big red X over her face, so now she's completely nonthreatening and you're not afraid to actually talk to her and get to know her. Which makes you like her even more, which makes you think about her even more, and so on and so on. It's a vicious cycle."

"So you're saying that, because I put restrictions on whether or not I can be with her, I'm just making everything worse?"

"Precisely."

"Great. Just great. Can I go home now?"

"You _are _home, kid. That's the problem."

Blue eyes suddenly snapped up, gazing at Han with harsh intensity. "Why won't you join the Alliance?"

Han paused, rattled by the abrupt change of subject. "I got lots of reasons, kid."

"Name one."

"Alright. How about the little problem you just moaned about? I don't need the military running my life."

"Don't you want to fight for a higher cause?"

"I'm doing that fine right now."

"So what's the difference if you join or not? You know they could use you—"

"You know I ain't joining! I don't wanna argue with you, Luke, so just drop the subject."

Luke shook his head. "With all the free advice you just gave me about Mara, I can't believe you refuse to recognize what's going on between you and Leia."

"Oh, I recognize it fine, kid. She's a princess. I'm a smuggler. That's that."

"Oh please! Remember what you said to me right after we met her? 'You think a Princess and a guy like me?' You were saying it to goad me but I know there was some truth in it, Han."

"Look, I don't need you giving me advice about joining the Alliance, and I sure as hell don't need you giving me advice about women! Have you even slept with a girl before?"

"That's none of your business!"

"Thought so."

Luke stuck out his chin proudly. "As a matter of fact, I have. There were girls on Tatooine, you know."

"What about girls in the Alliance, huh?"

"I haven't got time for that."

"See, and this is what I don't get. You've got girls falling all over you. You're saying you don't got time for one night?"

"That's not what I want, Han."

"Sure, I know what you want. She's got red hair and green eyes and a figure like—"

"Maybe I do!" Luke screamed. "Maybe I do want her, alright! Is that so horrible, for me to be attracted to her? But I'm not going to let myself be led around by my hormones like some crazed animal. I'm supposed to be a leader in the Rebel Alliance, and I'm going to act like one.

"And you're _my_ friend, Han, but I'm also Leia's friend, so I'm only going to say this once. I know Leia's the reason you stay, and don't even try to deny it. It's not because of me, or you would have left a long time ago. No, you stay because of Leia, because you care for her and it scares you to death, because for so long it's just been you and Chewie and you've never had to answer to anyone but each other. But now Leia's come along and you worry about disappointing her or hurting her or, even worse, about her hurting you. So you keep your distance and put on your tough smuggler act and pretend that you don't care about what she feels about you. But you do, Han, and so does she, and it's killing her because she knows that any day, she could wake up and find you gone, and she wouldn't be surprised one bit. She'd be disappointed and cry in my arms and I never want to have to deal with that. She's like my sister now and I don't want to see her get hurt any more than you do. But you _are_hurting her, because you refuse to stay for good.

"And I know what you're gonna say—that she snaps your head off and treats you like shavit, so how could she possibly like you? Well you know why she does that? Because then maybe she'll finally convince herself that she really doesn't care about you at all and when you finally do leave, she won't be crushed."

Without another word, Luke turned on his heel and left the hold. Han was aware that he was gaping at young friend, and he had no absolutely idea what to say or do. He couldn't even be angry at Luke…because Luke was right about everything.

But still, Han had ten more years of life experience, hard life experience that the kid, despite all his newfound responsibilities in the Alliance, could never begin to understand.

Han didn't want to leave the conversation the way it ended, knowing that any day could be their last, so he chased Luke down the ramp. "Hey, Luke!"

Luke turned around, his face set in determination.

"I know what I'm doing," Han said softly.

Luke nodded, acknowledging Han's overture to make amends, but unwilling to back down. "If you say so."

Han watched his friend walk across the hangar, his hands deep in the pockets of his flight suit, and wondered how such an unassuming farm boy always managed to get the best of him.

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.

The canopy hissed closed and Mara settled in to the couch, strapping herself in and adjusting the old, battered helmet on her head. She wore the traditional orange flight suit of the Rebel Alliance X-wing pilots, such a stark contrast to the pure black uniforms of the Empire's TIE fighter pilots. The biggest difference, of course, was the lack of a full mask. Mara had hated flying with that mask, not trusting the cybernetic substitutes for her own eyes.

The instrument panel came to life with a series of beeps and whirs, and Mara slowly and deliberately ran through her start up checklist. She'd already memorized the procedures but was determined not to make any stupid mistakes on this run. Luke Skywalker was in the control room, observing her, and she wanted to prove that she was Rogue Squadron material.

As she waited for instructions, Mara briefly wondered why she even cared what Commander Skywalker thought of her. She shouldn't be concerned with becoming a Rogue; she should only be concerned with procuring a ship and getting the hell out of the Rebel Alliance before they found out who she was or she was forced to make contact with the Emperor again. She'd lived her entire life according to his every command and defying him, even from such a vast distance, was proving to be harder than Mara could have ever imagined.

But for some reason she _did_ want to prove herself. Part of it was purely professional pride, her perfectionist nature getting the best of her, and her training that had taught her never to go half measures. If she was going to pretend to audition for the Rogues, then she would do her best.

The other part of her, a part of her that she hadn't even known existed, wanted Skywalker to approve of her. To like her, even.

She thought back to the way he'd stared at her, a look of undeniable attraction flashing across his blue eyes, and a strange shiver settled in the pit of her stomach. Skywalker was attractive, there was no denying it...and she also couldn't deny that there was something special going on between them.

Another reason for her to get the hell out of the Alliance as soon as possible.

A voice from her headset forced her to clear her mind of her thoughts. "This is Rogue Leader. All wings report in."

Mara clicked on her comm. "Rogue Two standing by."

"Rogue Three standing by."

"Rogue Four standing by."

The first voice was undeniably Tycho's, but Mara could not determine the identities of Three and Four. Probably current Rogues, she assumed, assigned to give their opinions of how the new pilots flew in battle.

As soon as they reported in, the blank viewports filled with the swirling patterns of lightspeed. On her instrument panel, Mara could see the countdown winding down. She immediately placed her hand on the hyperdrive level, ready for reversion. The clock hit zero, and her hand pushed forward.

Mara found herself surrounded by chaos.

The four X-wings and the cargo ship they'd been escorting had come out of hyperspace in the middle of an ambush. An Imperial Star Destroyer loomed several klicks ahead, causing an odd spike of fear from the former Emperor's Hand. Never in her life had she thought that a Star Destroyer would cause her such unease. The ship had always represented a safe haven, a safe port. Now, it represented the enemy.

From the Star Destroyer swarmed a squadron of TIEs. The Rebels were outnumbered, a situation that would cause lesser pilots to panic, but they were Rogues—or aspiring Rogues, in Mara's and Tycho's cases—and had faced much worse odds in the past.

Besides, Mara tended to abide by the old Corellian saying—_never tell me the odds._She had flown in the face of the odds her entire life, and the way thing were going, would probably never stop.

"Rogues, lock S-foils in attack position. Break off by wing pairs," Tycho instructed. "Two, you're my wing."

"Copy," Mara replied. Her fighter broke off on Tycho's starboard side as they held their position on the port side of the freighter. The other two X-wings settled in on the freighter's starboard side, while the dilapidated ship attempted to escape the nearby planet's gravity well and return to lightspeed. It was too slow, and would never make it before the TIEs arrived.

Tycho knew this, of course, and altered their plan accordingly. "Three and Four, stay with the freighter. Two, we're going in." He didn't wait for Mara's reply; he set off at full speed for the closest enemy wing pair. Mara followed him, checking her shields and weapons systems to make sure they were at her preferred settings.

Even though they were still relatively unfamiliar with flying the Rebel fighter, Mara and Tycho had a huge advantage in their experience flying TIE fighters. They both knew how the enemy ships handled and therefore how to best fight against them. It was something Mara had been taught during her training as the Emperor's Hand: _when you learn to think like the enemy, you will be able to defeat them. _It had taken her a few runs to get used to the differences between the Imperial and Rebel fighters, most importantly the X-wing's slower speed and learning how best to balance engines, laser batteries, and shields to optimal performance. TIEs didn't have shields, so she had never had to balance power between the three systems.

And of course, she had to adapt to flying with an astromech. A pilot's relationship with his or her astromech was much more involved than the interactions with the ship's computer. An astromech acted, sometimes, like a living, breathing person, a veritable co-pilot in a one-man fighter.

Satisfied with her systems for the time being, Mara turned her attention to the approaching TIEs. Tycho pulled out in front of her, ready to take the brunt of enemy fire. The TIEs opened fire first and Tycho easily avoided the lasers, sliding left then right, as Mara flew over his canopy. She set her lasers to dual-link fire and took out the two pursuing fighters. She grinned despite herself.

"Nice shooting, Two."

"Thanks, Leader." Mara pulled her fighter around tight to get back on Tycho's wing. As she turned she could see Three and Four dealing with two TIEs that had gotten past her and Tycho. She cursed silently and set her targeting brackets on another approaching TIE fighter. This time, Mara was the one to take the brunt of the attack, while Tycho swept below her starfighter and blew the TIE away with two quick laser blasts.

The enemy was playing safe to begin with, scoping out the opposing forces and gaining a sense of their strength before launching more fighters. It was a strategy that was typical of the Empire's more moderate leaders, who had no desire to risk the lives of more soldiers than necessary to accomplish a mission. Leaders like Vader, on the other hand, threw as much at the enemy as soon as possible, to overwhelm the opposing forces before they even had a chance to respond.

As expected, another squadron of TIEs soon came swarming out of the Star Destroyer. Mara grit her teeth but held her ground, waiting for Tycho's next order.

"Three and Four, form up on us. We'll distract the TIEs long enough for the freighter to break free and jump to hyperspace. On my mark, break by wing pairs and perform evasive maneuvers."

"Acknowledged." That was Three. The two X-wings quickly fell into position.

Just as the TIEs were about the reach them, Tycho barked his order. "Break!"

Mara kept her ship tight on Tycho's wing, forcing several of the TIEs to pull off in pursuit. She didn't even need to check her instruments to know that an enemy ship had gotten a target lock on her. She immediately jerked her stick to port, pulling into a tight loop and pulling her throttle back. The TIE, with its superior speed, overshot her X-wing and the TIE came in her sights. She sensed that the TIE fighter was in her brackets and her thumb hit the trigger on its own volition. Glancing at her sensors, she saw that Tycho had taken out two other TIEs, and Three and Four had vaped two more.

Ten down, fourteen to go.

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Luke leaned forward in his chair, watching the battle that raged on in the sims The four X-wings had just engaged an additional squadron of TIEs, leaving them highly outnumbered, but they weren't letting themselves get overwhelmed, which was a very good sign. The chances of success on this run were slim to none, but Luke knew it was still doable; after all, this simulation had been based on an ambush that Rogue Flight had been involved with just before the evacuation of Yavin IV.

Luke had been in the control room for the past several hours, focusing on a different pilot every run. Hobbie had been correct; Tycho was an excellent pilot, possibly on par with the top pilots in the Alliance. Rade and Zurel were also superior pilots, and both would be great assets to Rogue Squadron.

On this final run, Luke was observing Mara Jade.

From the chair next to him, Wedge leaned forward to adjust one of the viewing screens. The rest of the Rogues, with the exception of Wes and Zev in the sims, sat behind them. Through his enhanced perception in the Force, Luke could hear several awed murmurs about Tycho's prowess in the cockpit. Then, there was a whisper from Dack: "Damn, she's hot _and_ she could kick my ass in the sims. She's my dream woman."

Luke suppressed a smile and re-focused all his attention on Mara. Her spirit in the Force shone like a beacon, calling out to him. He found it very easy to read her mind while flying.

Because it worked just like his.

He had first noticed the similarities when they flew against each other, but now, concentrating solely on Mara's mind and nothing else, Luke was thunderstruck to find that she flew _exactly like him._

She wasn't as good a pilot as he, much as she wanted to believe she was, but proficiency wasn't the point. They had the same quickness of mind and ability to divide their attention between their instruments and intuition. Flying seemed as natural for her as it did for him, like she always knew where to go and what to do, even if the enemy had her boxed in.

And, even more than that, Mara was actively calling on the Force to help her fly. He could sense it. Luke recognized the familiar patterns immediately, the way her jinks and jukes would sometimes fly in the face of all logic. At crucial moments in the battle, Mara seemed to ignore all scientific data and act only on instinct.

Luke was sure that, had Mara been flying against living opponents, she would have used the Force to analyze their attack patterns and plan strategies against them, just as Luke did.

He had previously wondered how much he and Mara had in common, if their brief connection on the Dantooine battlefield had been the Force whispering in his ear. She was special—there was no denying it—and now he had proof that Mara Jade was aware of her power and knew how to use it. She had been taught how to use the Force, and Luke was going to find out where, and by whom. And maybe—just maybe—the Academy-trained, closed-off woman from Alderaan would realize that she had more in common with a Tatooine farm boy than she ever thought possible.

Several minutes later, the sim was over. Of the four X-wings, only Wes had been vaped. The TIEs had been held off long enough for the freighter to escape to hyperspace. Mara, Tycho, and Zev quickly followed.

Against all odds, they had done it.

Luke grinned.

He had found his new Rogues.


	14. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Now that he was there, Luke couldn't remember why he decided to seek Mara out in the gym. At the time, it had seemed like a perfectly good idea. He needed to speak with her, and he had already looked in all the usual places—the mess, her quarters, the sims. He knew that Mara often worked out, so the gym was the next logical place to look for her.

But all his good intentions and logic flew out the window the moment he saw her on the treadmill. She was wearing a tank top and running shorts that left little to his imagination. Her braid bounced against her back and sweat dripped down her brow and she grabbed a towel to wipe her chest…

Luke quickly turned away, taking in a sharp intake of breath and chastising himself for allowing such thoughts to run through his mind. He was there for a reason. He had to speak to Mara about something important. Something that could make a world of difference in his life. And as he'd told Wedge and Han, nothing could ever come of his feelings for Mara. He needed to forget about her. Maybe they were right; maybe he needed to find another girl to take his thoughts off Mara.

Yeah, knowing him, that would never work. He'd probably think about Mara the entire time and then he'd just feel guilty for taking advantage of someone.

"Luke?"

He turned back around, breathing steadily and calling on the Force for calm. Thankfully, it worked. "Hi, Mara," he said, putting on a fake smile. "Sorry to bother you."

She shook her head. "Not a problem. Do you need something?"

She hadn't stopped running, and Luke had to will himself not to stare at her chest. _I think I've found exactly what I need._

"Um, I was just hoping to talk. If that's alright."

"Sure. Hop on." She gestured to the treadmill next to her.

"Huh?"

"I've still got a few minutes left in my run. Join me."

He looked down at his flight suit. "I'm not really dressed for working out."

"Then you'll just have to stare at me while I run."

Luke did not think that was a good idea at all. "On second thought, I have running shorts on underneath. That is, if you don't mind…"

Mara stared at him blankly. "Why would I mind?"

"No reason." She didn't reply, so Luke stripped off his flight suit, grabbed a towel, and hopped on the treadmill next to her. He punched in a manual program and slowly built up to Mara's pace. He glanced over at her; he could have sworn that her jaw slackened slightly upon seeing him shirtless, but he was probably just imagining things.

.

Mara wondered what in the galaxy had prompted her to make such a stupid suggestion. _Oh sure, Jade, invite the most attractive man in the Alliance to run shirtless with you in the gym. That'll really keep your mind off him._ She mentally swore at herself, calculating the hours until she could commandeer a ship and leave the Alliance. That was definitely the only solution to the complete and utter mess that had become her life. She had to leave before she got too infatuated with Skywalker. She could never stay in the Alliance, and she'd just end up getting hurt again.

But watching him build up from a jog and slowly increasing his pace, she could not stop her mouth from opening just slightly. Gods, he was the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen.

He turned to her and she abruptly looked away, clamping down all her mental shields. She would never be able to look him in the eye if he'd sensed her thoughts.

They ran in silence for a few moments and Mara could sense Luke's growing anxiety. She knew why he had sought her out. He wanted to ask her about the Force. She didn't mind talking to him—she enjoyed it a lot, as a matter of fact—but not about the Force.

Never about the Force.

Palpatine had taught Mara everything she knew, and even though she desired to learn more, he had told her that her skills were finite and she would never be as proficient in the Force as Darth Vader. At the time, his rebuke had stung Mara to no end. She used her anger to her advantage and worked as hard as she could to prove herself as the Emperor's Hand. Looking back, she realized that his criticism was just one more way for Palpatine to play his two acolytes against each other.

He certainly was the master.

But Mara still believed that she wasn't as strong in the Force as Luke believed she was. She knew enough to succeed in her missions, but that was it. She would never be a Jedi, or a Sith.

Luke...Luke was powerful. She would never be able to tell him what he desired to know.

The optimistic pilot opened his mouth but Mara started speaking before he could get out his words. "So, were you pleased with the results of our simulations?"

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His expression fell for a moment as he sensed her avoidance, but he answered anyway. "Very much so. You four are tremendous pilots."

She grinned. "That's good to hear. Who was the best?"

"Oh, I can't divulge that information."

"Why not?"

"It's privileged. Only special people get to know."

"I'm not special?"

Luke glanced over at Mara, who was pouting mischievously. He stifled a groan in response. _She's going to be your subordinate in a few days! Start acting like it!_

As usual, Luke ignored the logical voice in his head. He smiled at her. "On the contrary, Lieutenant Jade, you are very special. Maybe one day I can show you just how special you are."

_Oh good Force Skywalker, way to sound like a complete and utter idiot! _He almost cringed, waiting for Mara to laugh in his face, but she didn't even crack a smile. She remained completely serious, staring at him with an unreadable expression. "Yes," she finally said. "Maybe one day you can."

They fell into another silence and Luke wondered why he and Mara always fell into this familiar pattern of flirting. He couldn't deny that she seemed to be intrigued by him, but it was still difficult for him to believe that she actually liked him. Not that it mattered, anyway.

After a few moments, she spoke up again. "So when will we find out if we made the squadron?"

"It won't be long. I'd like you four to join us on an audition mission, so to speak. Then I just have to speak with some people and make it official."

"Can't you just tell me now if I made it?"

"I could, but then I'd have to kill you," he responded playfully.

Mara laughed. "Oh, Farmboy. You have no idea."

He tilted his head at her. "What?"

"Nothing," she said quickly. "So. The squadron?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you anything, other than that you did really well on the sims."

"Better than Tycho?"

Luke shook his head apologetically. "Sorry. Tycho almost beat Wedge's score."

"And let me guess, Wedge is second only to you?"

Luke shrugged sheepishly. "He has beat me a few times."

"Well, it's good to know that it's possible, at least. Anyway. What place did I come in?"

"Does it really matter?"

"Yes, I want to know."

Her green eyes flashed competitively, and Luke understood her desire all too well. He spent much of his free time in the sims, improving his piloting skills. Everyone else in the squadron told him he was crazy, that he didn't need practice after getting a Death Star silhouette painted on his X-wing hull, but he knew better. He could never stop challenging himself. It was the only way he could stay at the top of the Rogues.

He nodded reluctantly, knowing she wouldn't stop badgering him until he told her, but not wanting to hurt her feelings. She had performed very well for a new pilot, but it definitely wouldn't be good enough for her.

"You came in sixth."

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_Sixth._ Mara cringed, not even trying to hide her disgust. Almost half the current and prospective Rogues had scored better. That was completely unacceptable. She would never be the best pilot, not with Luke Skywalker around, but she could do better than measly sixth place. Back when she was on the _Accuser_, she was one of the best TIE pilots in her wing. Apparently Tycho was right, and the Rogues really were the best pilots in the Alliance.

They had to be, for causing the Emperor's Hand to come in sixth place.

"It was a really good effort," Luke said. "Especially for someone unfamiliar with an X-wing."

"I don't need your sympathy," she snapped. "I told you, I can fly anything. I just wasn't good enough."

"That's not true, Mara. You got a better score than pilots who've been with the group for months, and I trust them with my life."

"It's still not good enough for me."

Luke nodded. "Believe it or not, I understand exactly how you feel."

Mara scoffed. "How would you know, Mr. Perfect?"

"Perfect?" Luke exclaimed. "Ha! If you only knew, Mara. If you only knew."

"Now you're just being patronizing."

"Believe what you want, Mara, but I do know how you feel. Why do you think I spend so much time in the sims? Everyone expects me to be the best, most of all myself. If I'm not, then I've failed. I'm Rogue Leader. That's not a designation I take lightly."

Mara opened her mouth to make another retort…but something stopped her. Then she realized that she believed him. For the first time, she wondered what it must be like to be the destroyer of the Death Star. Everyone in the Alliance wanted to be Luke Skywalker. Everyone in the Empire wanted to kill him.

Including Vader.

Mara shivered, suddenly feeling immense sympathy for the man next to her, and also the immense desire to protect him.

She shoved aside that thought before he could sense it, but by the way he glanced at her, she knew it was too late.

"Mara," Luke whispered. His voice sounded broken thanks to his labored breathing, but it was still one of the most calming sounds Mara had ever heard.

She turned away, suddenly uncomfortable, knowing what Luke was about to do, and wanting nothing more than to avoid it.

.

"Mara," he repeated. "I know you sense it."

"Don't."

"I have to. I'm sorry."

"If you're sorry, then you'll shut up," she snapped, turning back to him with flashing green eyes. "I don't want to talk about this."

"You're the only person I know that can sense the Force, Mara. I'm sorry, but I have questions and I have to ask them."

"I don't have the answers you want, Skywalker. Just leave me alone." With that she slammed her hand on the off switch and jumped off the treadmill before it could even come to a complete stop.

But Luke managed to grab her arm before she could head for the showers. He stared at her, no longer entranced by her beauty, but fascinated by her strength in the Force. Standing so close to her, with her being so angry, it was almost overwhelming.

"I know you feel it," he said softly. "There's something between us. I felt it on Dantooine. You can help me…I can help you…please. Just tell me where you learned what you know."

She yanked her arm away. "I'm only going to say this one more time, Skywalker. You do not want to know where I learned about the Force. You do not want me to help you. You do not want me to give you answers. You are better off as you are right now."

He shook his head incredulously. "How can you say that? I don't know anything, Mara. They all think I can do these amazing things, but I can't. I'm supposed to be the savior of the Rebellion and I can't even levitate a simple stylus. You can help me, I _know_ you can."

"No I can't, so just leave me alone!" Incensed, she shoved him against the wall and tightened her grip on his shoulders. She was quite shorter than him but that didn't matter; she was still more threatening than anyone Luke had ever met. Luke knew she could snap his neck in an instant if she wanted to.

He swallowed hard. "I can't leave you alone, Mara. It's not who I am."

She narrowed her eyes but violently let him go. Luke could sense her regret for losing her temper, but she didn't apologize. All she said was, "Then the Empire will eat you alive."

She left without giving him a chance to respond. He watched her retreating form, wondering why she had reacted so harshly to his questions about the Force, as intrigued and entranced as ever.

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Luke didn't have much time to dwell on his conversation with Mara, as General Rieekan soon approached him with the news that the Rogues would be transferring back to Thila command. Officially, they were escorting the _Millennium Falcon_ on a supply run, but unofficially it was the first mission for the expanded Rogue Squadron. Luke was very grateful for the distraction, otherwise he'd never be able to forget about their very confusing talk in the gym.

All of that was forgotten as soon as Luke stepped into the briefing room. He immediately transformed into Rogue Leader. His pilots quieted down quickly, even Wes and Dack who had been whispering furiously in the back row. Luke wondered what they were conspiring about now, but decided that it was better if he didn't know.

Two new pilots sat in the front row: Tiom Pettis and Kit Valent, both recruited by Arhul Narra to fill out the expanded Rogue Squadron. They both had attended flight school on their homeworlds and joined the Rebellion after the Battle of Yavin. They were excellent pilots and would make a great addition to the Squadron. Narra had introduced them to Luke as soon as they arrived on _Home One_ and they'd immediately clicked with both Luke and the other Rogues. It seemed like the plan was coming together beautifully.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Luke started. "I have good news: we're heading back to base."

Dack's hand shot in the air. "Excuse me, boss, but would it be wishful thinking for me to ask if base was moved to Mon Cal?"

"It would."

"Dammit." Beside him, Wes patted Dack's arm. Luke rolled his eyes and suppressed a laugh.

"Anyway, as I was saying, we're leaving this afternoon and will be escorting the _Millennium Falcon _back to Thila, so make sure you pack all your belongings."

"That includes your blow-up doll, Hobbie!" Wes shouted across the room. Hobbie flashed Wes a rude gesture without even taking his eyes off the front of the room.

Luke stole a glance at the two new pilots, who were alternating between stifling their laughter and looking horrified at their new surroundings. "Don't worry, Flight Officers," Luke assured them. "They're much more mature once they get inside a cockpit."

Zev raised his hand. "What about the other four pilots, boss?"

"This mission will be their final test. Once we get back to Thila, we'll make the official decision. But unless something horrible goes wrong on the mission, they'll definitely be filling out the final four spots."

"Can I offer my opinion right now, boss?" Dack asked.

"No."

Dack slumped down in his chair, defeated.

"What about me?" Wes said.

"No."

Wes echoed Dack's gesture.

"Don't worry, I'll be more than eager to hear your opinions when we get back to base."

Wes straightened up and grinned. "Excellent. I wrote a report!"

"You did?"

"Yes. It's called 'Why We Need More Hot Women in Rogue Squadron,' by Wes Janson, Lieutenant."

Luke sighed and placed his face in his palm. Peering through his fingers, he gave Wedge a pointed look. He didn't even need to say a word. Wedge nodded, then quickly snapped around and hurled a balled up piece of flimsiplast at Wes's head.

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Mara stood at loose attention in the hangar, surrounded by the eight Rogues and the three former TIE pilots. Shifting uncomfortably, she finally let her bag slide from her shoulder to rest on the ground next to her leg. She hated showing any sign of weakness, but they'd been waiting for fifteen minutes now and she no longer cared what the others thought. Besides, Tycho had set his bag on the ground after five minutes of waiting, so she couldn't think herself too weak for finally succumbing to temptation.

And of course, just as her bag hit the ground, Luke Skywalker came sauntering into the hangar, practically whistling. She immediately snatched up her bag and placed it back on her shoulder.

Luke stopped in front of them, accompanied by General Cracken and General Rieekan. Off in the distance, Han Solo and Leia Organa were having some sort of argument by the _Millennium Falcon,_ while Chewbacca banged at the ship's hull in a vain attempt to fix whatever had most recently broken on the dilapidated ship. The prissy protocol droid followed them and Mara had to restrain a laugh, remembering how much the droid had annoyed Captain Solo on their last flight.

"Gentlemen. Ma'am." Mara focused her attention back on Luke as he began speaking. She couldn't help but notice that he seemed more nervous than usual. Was it because he had an audience? He had never before seemed nervous during briefings. But perhaps Luke really did worry about how others thought of him more than she previously believed. After all, having to be perfect all the time could get to a person.

She would know.

"We've been tasked to escort the _Millennium Falcon_ on a shipping run to one of the smaller Rebel bases. We'll be staying there for awhile, which is why we requested that you pack your belongings. You'll need to say good-bye to _Home One_ for the time being."

Mara glanced at Tycho and they shared a smile. Being moved to a base was a very good sign. It meant that the Alliance trusted the four of them enough to give them a location. And since they were flying with Rogue Squadron, Mara could only assume that they were going to make it. This was most likely just one final test before they received official notice.

Despite all her better judgment and her insistence that she was going to leave the Alliance as soon as possible, Mara still felt a pang of pride at the prospect of being a part of the exclusive Rogue Squadron. She might have come in sixth place in the sims, but she was still better than most of the pilots in the Alliance. And she hadn't even gone through an official flight school.

_Okay Jade, don't get cocky. You haven't made the squadron just yet._

"This mission should be fairly simple," Luke continued. "Make a few jumps, arrive at the base, fly patrol while the _Falcon _lands, then head down ourselves. Any questions?"

There were none so Luke dismissed the Rogues and asked the former Imperials to remain for just a moment longer. "As I said, the mission should be fairly simple, so this should be the perfect time to get familiar with your new X-wings and your astromechs. I know it can take a little getting used to, especially after flying TIEs for so long."

"We'll be fine," Tycho assured him, the eternal spokesperson for the group.

"I'm sure you will. Good luck." He snapped a salute which the others immediately returned. Mara turned to walk towards her ship…

But Luke's arm was on her shoulder, holding her back. She stood in place, refusing to face him. She could sense his breath on her shoulder and it sent shivers down her spine. "May the Force be with you, Mara," Luke whispered.

Part of her wanted to slap him…but she didn't. The other part, the part that was intrigued by Luke Skywalker and wondered what it would be like to be with a boy, won this round. "May the Force be with you, too," she replied, just as softly. Luke followed her as she approached her X-wing.

He watched her circle her new ship, inspecting it. He grinned in approval. "You catch on quick, Mara."

She finally turned to him and nodded. "I pride myself on that. Plus, I'd never fly in a ship I didn't personally inspect. That's just asking for trouble."

"I couldn't agree more."

"So. I'm assuming that's my astromech?" She gestured towards a red and white R5 unit already fitted in the droid socket. It tweedled expectantly and she chuckled.

"Yup, that's yours. Assuming you get in the squadron, of course."

"Of course," she said. "What's its name?"

"Doesn't have one, yet. It's fresh off the assembly line."

"Huh. I've never named a droid before." It was true; her old protocol droid had come to her already named. Briefly, Mara wondered what had become of that droid and her ship. She pushed those thoughts from her mind, unwilling to let herself be pulled into the past. She needed to concentrate on her future.

"Don't look to me for assistance. Mine came to me already named and besides, Artoo isn't the most clever name for an R2 unit."

Mara chuckled again. "That's true. Hmmm." She tilted her head at her new droid, lost in thought. She had no idea why she was giving so much consideration to the name of a stupid astromech droid when she was planning to leave the Alliance in a few days, but she was. And, of course, she had absolutely no inspiration. She bit her lip in frustration.

"Red."

Her head snapped around at Luke's voice. He was staring at the astromech with a funny look on his face. "What?" she asked.

He looked back to her and reached out to touch her hair. She almost flinched away, but she couldn't. "Red." His hand left her hair and pointed at the droid. "You match. See?"

His smile was infectious and she could not stop her own grin from spreading across her face. Dear gods, what _was _this farm boy doing to her? She almost rolled her eyes at how ridiculous she was being. Is this how she would have acted if she had been a normal girl growing up in the galaxy?

"Yeah, I guess we do." She nodded slowly. "Red. I like it. Do you like that name?" she asked the droid. His dome turned several times and he squealed appreciatively.

"I guess he likes it," Luke said, laughing.

"Yeah. Do you ever manage to figure out what the hell they're saying?"

"After awhile you start to gain a sense of when they're telling you off, but most of the time I'm thankful I have a data screen to interpret Artoo's bleeps."

"Yeah, I can imagine—"

"HEY!"

Luke and Mara both jumped as a loud voice reverberated across the hangar. Mara turned to find Wes Janson standing in his X-wing with his hands placed indignantly on his hips. Every other pilot in the hangar was staring at them, just as amused. "If you two don't mind, we have a mission to attend to—or did you forget, commander?" Wes wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Luke rolled his eyes and Mara laughed to cover up the flush creeping across her face. Very quickly, Luke patted her on the shoulder before taking off towards his X-wing. He pointed at Wes. "That'll be five days of kitchen duty for you when we get back to base, lieutenant."

"Aw, come on!"


	15. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

The _Falcon _was quiet as Han made his way through the ship's corridors. It was another night, another mission. He thought back to that day at Chalmun's Cantina and how his life had made a radical right turn in such a short amount of time. Right after Yavin, there were many times that Han wished he'd never ventured into that cantina. Instead of a much-needed drink, he'd instead gotten himself into a world of trouble.

But now, standing outside the door of Leia's makeshift quarters, his feelings were exactly the opposite. No matter what happened in the future, he was glad he'd agreed to fly Luke and Old Man Kenobi to Alderaan. Leia might make him want to tear his hair out from time to time—okay, most of the time—but Luke was right. Han cared. And as much as he once wanted to leave and go back to his simple life with Chewie, he couldn't. Not anymore.

But he also couldn't join the Alliance, and Leia deserved to know why. So he'd decided to tell her.

It was the logical thing to do, so then why was he so petrified? She was almost two heads shorter than him and ten years younger, yet he was finding her more intimidating than Darth Vader on an off day.

Perhaps that was what intrigued him about her so much.

Taking a deep breath, Han knocked on the door. After a moment, he heard Leia's muffled voice tell him to enter.

She sat on her bunk facing away from the door, clutching something in her hand. She didn't turn around when he entered, so he let the door shut behind him and slowly approached her. "Princess?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Do you need something, Captain?" she asked, her voice still muffled. Han realized that she sounded choked up, like she had been crying. Well, that just would not do.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Han asked, taking a seat next to her on the bunk. He was so concerned about her that he didn't even stop to consider that Leia might punch him for being so presumptuous.

Thankfully, she didn't. "Nothing," she replied shortly. "I just want to be alone right now."

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen, Princess. Come on, tell me what's wrong."

Leia was quiet for several seconds, then she sighed in resignation and finally turned around to face him. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were tear stained. Han had to physically restrain himself from reaching out and embracing her.

"Today was my father's birthday," she whispered.

"Oh." Han had no idea what to say. He'd come here to reassure Leia that he wasn't going to up and leave any time soon, but this was another matter entirely. She had never spoken to him about Alderaan, and Han had never thought to bring up the subject. He knew that it was a topic she'd prefer to avoid, and he was more than familiar with such a mindset.

But instead of a heartfelt reassurance that everything would be alright, all he could offer was an unenthusiastic "oh." And Chewie wondered why Han believed he wasn't good enough for Leia.

She took a deep breath. "I think about him every day, of course, but today was the worst I've felt in a long time. I woke up, remembering all the good times we had, reminiscing about all the things he taught me, and then I just couldn't stop thinking about Alderaan. I kept seeing it blow up in front of my eyes, and imagining what he must have been doing, what he must have felt. He had to have known what was going to happen…the minute the Death Star entered the system, he had to have known." Leia gripped the object in her hand tighter. "You know, I heard reports that he tried to order an evacuation, but there just wasn't enough time. His aides told him to leave and he refused. He would never abandon his people to die alone."

"I'm sorry, Leia."

"This is us when I was little," Leia said, holding out the object in her hand—an old-fashioned photograph of her and her father. In it, Leia looked to be about ten years old. Han would have been at the academy then.

"He was such a wonderful father. Especially after my mother died, he worked so hard to protect me from the horrors of the galaxy, but he never sheltered me. I wanted to be a senator and he supported me fully. Looking back, I realize how hard that had to be for him, knowing that I'd eventually want to join him in the Rebellion and effectively sentence myself to death, but he didn't stop me from pursuing my dreams. He was the best father I could have asked for."

"I'm sure he was very proud of you."

"I hope so. He always treated me like I was his own."

"What do you mean?"

Leia looked at him sharply and placed her hand over her mouth. "Oh, I shouldn't have said that…"

Han gave her one of his trademark grins. "Well, the nexu's out of the bag now, so you might as well tell me."

Leia smiled softly, then glanced down at the photograph, biting her lip. "I was adopted, Han. _Please_ don't say anything. Very few people know, and if it got out—"

"Don't worry about it, Princess. Your secret is safe with me."

"...Thank you."

"So who else knows?"

"Just Winter, Mon Mothma, and Luke."

Han felt that familiar surge of jealousy shoot through him. "Oh sure. Luke."

She glared at him, her mood immediately shifted. "Please, do _not_ do this right now."

He held out his hands. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. So…how long has he known?"

She sighed heavily, but answered anyway. "Since we first met. When I learned he was also adopted, I confided in him. I was still reeling from Alderaan and needed someone to talk to. That's all." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Not that I have to defend my actions to _you_."

"No, you're right." Han nodded. Leia was absolutely right. Luke was her friend, and she had every right to confide in him. Besides, just days ago he'd confronted Luke about the kid's infatuation with Mara Jade. Han really needed to drop the jealousy act.

It was just hard not to be jealous when he was around Leia.

"So, now you know my big secret," Leia said. "Her Royal Highnessness isn't really a princess at all."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. You'll always be a princess to me."

Leia rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. "Thank you."

"Besides, you're in good company, being orphaned and all."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't really remember my family. I was a street kid, you see."

"Oh…I never knew that, Han. I'm very sorry to hear that."

He shrugged. "Nothing to be sorry for. It was a long time ago."

"What happened?"

He shrugged again. "I was living on the street, got caught up in a smuggler's gang, finally got out on my own, went into the academy, was proclaimed one of the next stars of the Empire, got promptly kicked out, then turned to smuggling."

"If you did so well at the academy, why didn't you join the Alliance?"

"Like I already told Luke, there wasn't any place to go back then. Then I got caught up in smuggling, and then that became my life."

"But now you're here."

Han shook his head incredulously. "You sure you and Luke aren't the same person? He said the exact same thing."

"Well, he's smart."

Han stared her straight in the eye. "He sure is."

It was quiet for a long moment. Leia glanced back down at the photograph, shifting uncomfortably on the bunk. Slowly, Han reached out and took the piece of flimsi from her hand, placing it next to him on the bunk. His hand reached out to hers and to his surprise, she did not pull away.

Her hand was small and warm and fit in his perfectly.

"I came here tonight for a reason, Leia," he whispered. "I just wanted to let you know…that I got no plans to leave any time soon."

Still avoiding his gaze, she ran her free hand over her worn jumpsuit. "Then why do you refuse to join us?"

"I can't, Leia. I'm sorry, but I can't join another military. It's just not who I am."

"But you're already here. I don't see why it makes a difference."

"I just can't, Leia."

Slowly, she nodded. Her expression was disappointed but resigned. "I can understand why you want to be in control of your own destiny. I just hope that someday you'll change your mind, and realize that you can do that even in the Alliance."

He kept staring at her even though she still refused to meet his gaze. "Someday, maybe I will."

After several long seconds, he picked up the photograph and placed it back in her hand. "You'll be alright?" he asked, turning her cheek around to face him.

She blinked away sudden tears and stuck out her chin proudly. Han was suddenly struck by just how much she resembled Luke in that moment. "I always am," she said.

"Good." Then, because he couldn't help himself, he leaned forward and kissed Leia gently on the cheek. Before she could slap him, he rose from the bed and exited her quarters.

She might not have made any heartfelt declarations of love or even returned his kiss, but that didn't matter. For now, her desire for him to stay was enough. After all, she was young, and he had nothing but time.

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After several long hours in hyperspace, the _Millennium Falcon_ and Rogue Squadron arrived at the Rebel base. The mission had proceeded as smooth as shimmersilk, and they landed on the ground with absolutely no problem. Mara still had no idea where exactly she was, but had no doubts that the secret would be revealed upon their arrival.

Sure enough, there was a small group waiting for them in the hangar—a middle-aged woman, a Sullustan, and a Mon Calamari. Very different leadership from what Mara had been accustomed to in the Empire.

The Rogues clamored out of their X-wings wearing large smiles. Mara, Tycho, Rade, and Zurel shied away from the crowd, uncertain as to what was going on and how they should react. After a few moments Luke gestured them forward, wearing an encouraging smile. Mara stepped forward…

And stopped short, eyes widening in shock.

The woman standing in front of her was Mon Mothma, the Commander in Chief of the Rebel Alliance. She was Number One on every most wanted list in the Empire. Every old, long ingrained instinct in Mara's mind screamed out at her to grab a blaster and shoot a hole in Mothma's chest.

And her heart screamed out in protest.

So Mara's hand stayed in place at her side, she took steadying breaths, and strode forward like a prospective member of Rogue Squadron.

The regal woman smiled. "Welcome. Allow me to introduce myself; I am Mon Mothma, Commander in Chief of the Rebel Alliance. With me are General Bryl, Director of Starfighter Command," she gestured at the Sullustan, "and Admiral Ackbar, Director of Fleet Command. Welcome to Thila base."

Mara glanced at Tycho, confused. He was sporting the biggest grin she'd ever seen on his face.

And then she got it.

Mothma, Bryl, and Ackbar were all members of Alliance High Command. So were Rieekan and Cracken, back at _Home One._ They'd been told that they would be relocated to one of the Rebel bases, but that hadn't been entirely accurate.

In fact, they'd been taken to _the_Rebel base.

Of course! Rogue Squadron was always attached to Alliance Command. Why wouldn't they be at the main Rebel base?

Mara had no idea why this revelation startled her so much. Nothing in her mandate had changed. She still intended to take leave of the Alliance as soon as possible.

Her breath caught in her throat again. She was at the main Rebel base. The security had to be immense. Mara would never be able to leave.

Unless…unless she deserted while in the middle of a mission, taking her X-wing and dumping it somewhere.

Mara blinked rapidly, realizing that Mothma was still talking and that she was staring like an idiot. She forced herself to pay attention.

"Commander Skywalker has your room assignments, and the rest of Rogue Squadron can show you around the base." She gave them a warm, genuine smile. "And thank you for your dedication to the Rebel Alliance." With that, she stepped forward and shook each of the defectors' hands. Mara could hardly look the woman in the eye.

After the three Alliance Command members left the hangar, Luke approached the group, wearing a hopeful but slightly nervous expression. "Well," he said, "I'm sure you figured out that we weren't entirely honest about our intended destination. I apologize—it was Cracken's orders. You understand." They all shared a laugh at the expense of the well meaning but often frustrating Intelligence director. "Anyway. Here are your room assignments." Luke handed out several pieces of flimsi. "Rade and Zurel, you'll be rooming together. Tycho, you'll be bunking with Wedge. He's been without a roommate for several months and I think the situation has been going to his head." The Alderaanian and the Corellian shared a glance, then nodded to each other. Mara smiled to herself, hoping dearly that Tycho would find in Wedge some much needed friendship.

She glanced down at her piece of flimsi. There was a room number on it, but no name of a roommate. She looked up at Luke with a questioning glance. "As you can see, Mara, you'll be rooming by yourself. I guess there just aren't enough women in the military yet." He shrugged sheepishly.

"No problem, I don't mind." She smiled. "At least I won't have to deal with anyone snoring."

"Hey Jade!" Mara turned around and saw the other Rogues, Wes Janson in the lead, approaching the smaller group. "If you think you'll be lonely, you can always share a room with Hobbie and me. We'll keep you nice and warm at night."

Mara suppressed a smirk. She'd learned all about Wes's antics since her arrival at the Alliance, and she decided that it was time to give him a taste of his own medicine. She slowly walked towards Wes and, seeing her coming towards him, he backed up suddenly with a startled expression on his face. She raised an eyebrow cheekily. "What's the matter, Janson?"

He kept backing up, and Mara kept on advancing. "Um, nothing—" he stuttered.

"As a matter of fact, I would love to bunk with you and Hobbie. In fact, maybe the three of us can engage in some fun nocturnal activities, _together. _If you catch my drift."

Wes's eyebrows nearly shot into his hair. Behind her, Mara could hear snickering and she sensed Luke's immense amusement shining through the Force.

Wes opened his mouth several times, but no words came out. Mara moved closer to him and placed a finger on his chest. "What's the matter, lieutenant? Gizka got your tongue?"

Unable to take anymore, Wes swallowed hard and bolted from the hangar. Mara turned around and grinned wickedly. "Now," she said. "Would anyone else like to make any 'fun' suggestions?"

The rest of the Rogues, minus Luke and Tycho, shook their heads vigorously. Luke was trying very hard not to laugh and Tycho was shaking his head in amusement at his surrogate younger sister.

Mara nodded curtly. "Good." She spun on her heel and made to leave the hangar, but stopped before she passed through the doors. She turned around slowly. "Commander Skywalker?"

Luke immediately stopped chuckling. "Yes?" he called.

"Would you be so kind as show me to my room?"

Luke bit his lip and nodded. "It would be my pleasure." He ignored the stares of the other Rogues as he walked towards her. He guided her to her new quarters in silence. When they arrived, he pointed down the hallway. "If you need anything, I'm right down the hall."

"Thank you, that's very convenient," she replied. "So, tell me honestly—how long will it be until I get put in a double room?"

"It's hard to tell, so you might as well enjoy the privacy for the time being."

Mara stepped closer to Luke and placed a hand on her hip. "Do you snore?"

"...What?"

"Do you snore?"

"Um, no—why?"

"Because if I get stuck with a snoring roommate, I might have to come invade your quarters so that I can get some sleep."

"Oh. Um." Luke ran his fingers through his hair and avoided her gaze. "Sure, I guess that would be fine..."

"Skywalker! It was a joke!"

He breathed a sigh of relief, although Mara sensed that he was also a little bit disappointed. "Oh, right," he said. "Of course. A joke."

"You should have seen the look on your face!" Mara laughed. "It was priceless."

"Yeah." He shifted uncomfortably. "Anyway. If you need anything, just let me know."

"Thanks, I will."

He nodded at her, then she entered her quarters and began putting away her things. After everything was settled it finally hit her, and she sank down on her bunk and placed her head in her hands.

She'd asked Luke to escort her to her quarters because she wanted to be with him. And she hadn't been putting on an air when she asked him if she would be soon stuck with a roommate. It was a serious consideration of what would happen if she stayed in the Alliance.

It was unavoidable—she was starting to think of herself as a Rebel.

And now her head was starting to pound with that old, familiar presence, one that she would never be able to ignore.

At that moment, Mara seriously considered using her old, Imperial-issued holdout blaster to permanently put herself out of her misery.

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.

There wasn't much to say while waiting outside the briefing room. The four defectors had performed exemplary and there wasn't anything left preventing Commander Skywalker from declaring them full members of the Rogue Squadron.

So why was Tycho pacing around the hallway, unable to still for a moment out of sheer anticipation? There was absolutely no reason for him to feel worried, but he was. This was the next step on his path to redemption. He would make up for joining the Empire in the first place, and for staying even though he knew deep down that he didn't belong.

Maybe someday he be able to forgive himself and then his family, wherever they were, could forgive him, too.

For now, though, he just wanted to find out if he'd made the squadron. He was starting to believe that Commander Skywalker was purposefully delaying the announcement in order to torture them, but that seemed more like something that Janson or Ralter would do.

After fifteen minutes had elapsed, Tycho began to hear a soft beeping noise coming from the door to the briefing room. He ignored it at first, but it persisted and grew louder until none of them could ignore it any longer. The squadron was inside the briefing room, so what could the beeping mean? Was it a signal for them to go inside? Was it something more sinister?

Just as Tycho was about to broach the subject, Mara spoke up. "I think they want us to go inside."

"But why wouldn't they just tell us that? This is odd," Rade asked.

"Well, it is Rogue Squadron," Tycho pointed out. "I think _odd _is their standard operating procedure."

"Why are we sitting out here, then?" Zurel said, striding forward towards the door.

Just as he reached out his hand to hit the activation panel, Mara cried out, "Wait, stop!"

It was too late. The door opened…

And Zurel got a bucketful of red condiment sprayed all over his face.

Tycho's hand shot to his mouth as he tried hard not to laugh. Mara stood next to him, shaking with her stifled giggles. Rade wasn't even attempting to hide his amusement.

Very slowly, Zurel brought his shirt to his face and wiped his eyes. Then, Tycho noticed Janson and Ralter standing in the doorway, rolling with laughter.

Commander Skywalker pushed them aside, wearing a resigned expression. "I warned them not to do it, but it's impossible to rein these two in. It's just something you'll have to get used to as members of Rogue Squadron."

It was not the notice that Tycho would have expected while in the Empire, but from the Rogues, it was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Tycho shook Rade's and Zurel's hands and gave Mara an affectionate hug, picking her up a bit and twirling her around. "We made it, Mara. We made it!" he whispered.

Mara nodded, an odd combination of happiness and dread playing deep inside her bright green eyes. "We did. We're Rogues."

In the middle of the celebration, Wedge drew up beside them. "As your new XO, it is my pleasure to invite you all to a gathering in your honor. Follow me."

They did as they were told, finally entering the pilot's lounge, which had been turned into a party room, complete with tables for food and drink and an area for dancing. Pilots from several other squadrons, along with Han Solo, Princess Leia, and other familiar members of the Rebellion, were present.

The last to enter the lounge, Commander Skywalker closed the door behind them and cleared his throat loudly. "Inside this room, we are no décor. Let the festivities begin."

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Mara didn't know how to feel during the celebration. Part of her was proud that she made the squadron. Part of her was happy at the prospect of getting to know Luke better. Part of her was petrified that she would now find it incredibly difficult to leave. Part of her feared that she wouldn't.

The previous night, she had contacted Palpatine briefly, giving a short and completely fabricated status report. She could tell that he had been unsatisfied with her uncharacteristic shortness, but it was all she could muster at the time. It was becoming harder and harder to resist his contact, and yet all she wanted was to ignore him.

She knew that she had to away from the Alliance as quickly as possible. If she couldn't resist the Emperor, she'd end up leading him straight to Thila base. She couldn't do that to them, not after everything she'd already done in her life. She'd almost gotten Tycho and the others killed on Dantooine. She couldn't bear the thought of unwittingly contributing to the deaths of her newfound friends.

Especially Luke Skywalker, the endearing, compelling pilot who she could not stop thinking about.

The celebration was entering its second rowdy hour when Mara's head began to ache. It was more persistent than ever, and she knew that Palpatine was suspicious. She needed to placate his worries, and assure him that she was deeply involved in her next mission. She had to get out of there and allow him to contact her.

_Why now? Why immediately after I got accepted into Rogue Squadron? It's like he knows._

Mara pushed aside all her thoughts, doubts, and concerns, intent on what she was called to do. She headed towards the doorway in a rush, not stopping to look or talk to anyone.

But before Mara could cross through the door, a warm hand settled on her shoulder. She jumped and nearly reached back to throw the offender onto the floor, but stopped herself once she recognized the shining presence of Luke Skywalker. He gave her that disarming smile she had grown to know so well in only a few days. "Leaving already?"

Mara swallowed hard, resisting the urge to rub her head and soothe the oppressive ache that had become characteristic of the Emperor's contact. "I just have to use the fresher," she lied, wanting to get out as soon as possible.

"Okay," Luke said, "but don't be too long. I want to have a dance with the guest of honor before the rest of the Rogues sweep in and claim their turns."

She forced herself to smile. "Sure, that sounds great." Then, because she couldn't handle it anymore, she turned away while squeezing her eyes shut.

She stepped into the hallway…and suddenly it hit her.

She didn't _want _to make contact with the Emperor. She didn't want him invading her mind anymore. She didn't want to go off into the galaxy on her own.

She wanted to stay exactly where she was. She wanted to be a Rebel.

She wanted to be a _Rogue_.

So that's what she would be.

Mara opened her eyes and, just like that, the connection between her and Palpatine was broken.

The relief was immediate, and for the first time in her life…she felt free.

She suppressed a smile as she imagined what the Emperor must be thinking at that moment, but she couldn't bring herself to care that much. Palpatine was her old life.

Her new life was inside that lounge.

The din of noise and laughter was almost overwhelming as she walked back inside, and she could no longer suppress the grin spreading slowly across her face. Striding purposefully towards Skywalker, she took a deep breath and tapped him on the shoulder. He faced her and gave her another disarming smile. "Back already?" he asked.

Mara nodded. "Yeah. I decided I didn't have to go after all."

He tilted his head curiously, then held out his hand. "May I have this dance?"

She offered her own. "It would be my pleasure."

Grasping her hand tightly, Luke led her onto the makeshift dance floor. Bringing her close to him, he gently placed his free hand on her waist. After a few tentative moments, she brought hers to his shoulder…

And she was exactly where she belonged.

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Deep inside the Imperial Palace, Emperor Palpatine sat atop his throne, staring in silence at the skyline of Imperial Center, and contemplating this latest unexpected development.

His precious Hand—the first girl he had considered for the experimental position—had gone wayward. He once thought that to be impossible. He had trained the girl from childhood, and she was loyal to the Empire as anyone else in Palpatine's retinue. She had killed terrorists, exposed traitors, and dedicated her life to fulfilling the Emperor's every last command.

And she had simply cut him off, just like that, their deeply tuned connection _snapped_.

He should have been furious. He should have left Imperial Center immediately, to hunt her down and teach her a lesson that she would _never_ forget. She was _his_.

But instead Palpatine sat calmly, listening to the Force bristle around him, surprisingly accepting of this unfortunate turn of events.

Because, ultimately, Mara's betrayal was of little consequence.

Let her have her dalliance. She would become entrenched in the Rebellion, become one of _them_, and then, when the time was right, Palpatine would order the girl to be brought back to her home. He would remind her where she truly belonged, and she would once again accept her place as the Emperor's Hand.

And, in the end, Palpatine was almost pleased that his Hand had gone rogue. For he knew that, wherever he found Mara Jade, he would also find the Son of Skywalker.

The true threat to the Emperor's reign.


	16. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

The residents of _Home One_ were crowded into the Mon Calamari starship's largest hangar. It was the only part of the ship that could hold the large number of people—nearly everyone on board who wasn't on duty in some essential part of the ship—who'd come for the event.

It wasn't a briefing or a promotion ceremony or even a simple funeral. This was a much more somber occasion, one that would be marked every year throughout the passage of time, even after all those who'd witnessed the event had left the mortal world. History would never be able to forget.

General Rieekan and Leia stood at the center of the hangar, in front of the other Command members, while the rest of the Alliance military circled around their leadership. Luke stood to Leia's immediate right, with the rest of Rogue Squadron, along with Han and Chewbacca, holding vigil behind him.

The ceremony was brief and somber. Few words were said, but there was little that could be said to summarize what they were remembering. They'd all felt the pain; it still cut like a knife, especially to those who'd had their lives shattered, and even to those who had little connection to Alderaan. It was, for all intents and purposes, why they were all on _Home One._Why they were all with the Alliance. Luke looked to four of his pilots, wondering what they were thinking at that moment. His gaze lingered on Mara, and he did not have to wonder about her thoughts. He could feel the discomfort radiating off her in waves. Next to her, Tycho clasped her hand and brushed away tears with his thumb.

Finally, Leia raised her hand, which was holding a candle. Somehow, the _Millennium Falcon_ had come across a rather large store of candles after Han had learned that it was an old tradition on Alderaan to burn candles at memorial ceremonies.

Leia's voice was soft when she spoke, but everyone heard her nonetheless. Luke knew what she would say, as she had come to him the night before asking for his opinion. He had no idea why—she was a much better public speaker than he could ever hope to be—but he was honored she had asked.

"My father, Bail Organa, once warned the Emperor that destroying the Alliance's leadership would only rally others; that no matter what the Empire did, they could never tear out the heart of the Alliance.

"One year ago today, the Empire tested my father's theory. The Death Star destroyed a peaceful world, and my father along with it, but still the Alliance was not crushed. Instead we fought back, and rallied others to our cause, others who were as disgusted by the Empire's actions as we were—as we forever will be.

"After that day, nobody could dare defend the Empire without condoning genocide and the death of entire civilizations. The Empire showed the galaxy the true nature of the evil that we fight against.

"No matter what we do, no matter if we succeed in defeating the Empire, nothing will ever bring back Alderaan or those who perished with the world. But we will always remember them. Their spirits will burn like a candle in our hearts, helping us remember what we fight for, and giving us the strength to go on. It is the least we can do."

As she finished her words, General Rieekan, another orphan of Alderaan, lifted his own candle. The rest of the crowd, Luke included, followed suit, until every single candle was held aloft.

Closing his eyes and remembering all that was lost on that fateful day one year ago, Luke joined the others in chanting the old proverb—

_"The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins—but in the heart of its strength lies weakness. One lone candle is enough to hold it back."_

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

The stylus sat immobile on the table, tantalizing and tormenting, as Mara reached out with the faint tendrils of the Force. Her eyes narrowed, focusing all her effort on the small object, willing it to rise into the air in front of her. Frustration burned inside her that this once simple act was now impossible.

She grimaced at the word: _impossible._ Staring at the stylus, she suddenly realized the barrier that was suppressing her old skills. Back when she was in the Emperor's command, she had never thought a mission to be impossible. Everything was within her reach, because the Emperor had taught her and he would never send her into the galaxy unprepared. Because she recognized this, and was confident in her abilities, she always succeeded.

She may no longer be serving the Emperor, but that didn't mean that none of his lessons were no longer worthwhile.

With new determination, Mara closed her eyes and once again pictured the stylus in her mind. She opened herself to the Force, the small tendrils slowly growing into longer threads, the threads braiding around each other until the air surrounding her seemed to glow with the power of the Force. She pictured the stylus rising in front of her and she did not need to open her eyes to confirm that she had succeeded. She allowed herself a short moment of pride that she was still able to access the Force.

"What are you doing?"

Mara's eyes snapped open at the familiar voice; the stylus fell to the table in a heap. She remained facing the wall, hoping beyond hope that her body had been blocking her movements. But then Luke walked around the table and sat down across from her, and the expression on his face was all the evidence she needed that he had witnessed her accomplishment.

She tried to avoid his gaze, but she couldn't. He stared at her, then at the stylus, then back at her again, his eyes filled with admiration. "Where did you learn to do that?" he breathed.

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.

Since Rogue Flight had become Rogue Squadron, Luke had done his best to act as nothing other than commanding officer to Mara Jade, now serving under him as Rogue Ten. Most of the time, it was easy. The Rogues had very little downtime as the war effort was ramping up with vigor, and the squadron often found itself escorting members of the Alliance Command to some hole in the wall base or escorting another supply convoy. Lately, the Rogues were preoccupied with setting up the new base. As requested by Mon Mothma several months ago, Rogue Squadron had come across a very small base on some far flung planet in the Outer Rim. Luke had decided it would make an excellent base of operations for the Rebel Alliance, posed the idea to Leia, who then took it to Command, where it was unanimously approved. The base was currently undergoing a transition to hold a much larger staff, and everyone on _Home One_ was bustling about, preparing to move in less than a month's time.

Thanks to all this, Luke couldn't even find time to eat and sleep, much less think about Mara.

But he did.

She was never far from his thoughts, just as she was never physically far from him. He couldn't deny that there was something going on between them, as much as they both tried to ignore it. One day, right after Mara had officially been accepted into Rogue Squadron, the two pilots had once again found themselves alone in the gym. They got to talking during their workout, which once again turned to flirting. They stayed together throughout the entire evening and well into the night, when they sat alone in a secluded corner of the pilots' lounge. Their arms brushed against each other several times and Mara's eyes shone when she laughed. Then, unable to contain himself any longer, Luke had placed his hand gently on Mara's cheek, and before he knew what was happening, he was leaning in to kiss her—

She had pulled away abruptly, just as his lips barely brushed against hers, her sense in the Force a conflicting maelstrom of emotions. When she finally turned back to face him, her expression had been soft and apologetic. "You know we can't do this," she had whispered, and Luke immediately chastised himself, growing angry at his inability to ignore his emotions. He was supposed to be a Jedi, and a Jedi would never let himself get so out of control. Most of all, he felt ashamed that he had almost broken the rules and betrayed Mara's trust.

Luke had nodded, pulling away to a respectful distance. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too."

They had never once talked about their brief kiss, and for awhile, did their best to ignore the growing feelings of attraction that neither of them could completely squash. But recently, it had become too much for Luke to avoid, and he once again began seeking Mara out in all the familiar places—the gym, the mess, the pilots' lounge. He'd even gone to her quarters once or twice under the guise of checking up on her or wanting to go through a run in the sims.

The worst part of the whole situation was that Luke knew that Mara felt the same way about him. It wasn't because the Rogues teased him mercilessly about it whenever the opportunity arose; it wasn't because Han insisted that Luke say "kriff regulations" and go for it with Mara; it wasn't because Leia constantly assured him of Mara's reciprocation of his feelings, that Leia was so certain about thanks to her so-called woman's intuition. No, Luke was sure of Mara's feelings because he could sense them through the Force. Whatever bond had sparked between them on the plains of Dantooine had steadily grown stronger, and now he felt her electrifying presence in the Force whenever she was close by. He knew that she could sense him just as much as he could sense her, and that thought thrilled him to the core.

And that was why he was so incredibly shocked when he walked into the pilot's lounge one night to witness Mara, sitting by herself, using the Force to levitate a stylus, with absolutely no idea that he was standing behind her.

Luke watched in awe as the stylus floated in front of her. He wanted to be quiet and see what she would do next, but he couldn't contain himself. "What are you doing?" he blurted out.

It was the dumbest thing he could ask, and as the stylus _clang_-ed to the table Luke immediately regretted saying anything at all. Mara's Force sense shifted from the stylus to him, her deep, acute awareness settling over him in a mix of embarrassment and misgiving. She didn't turn around to face him and he knew that she would ignore him until he went away, so he didn't give her that option. He shut the door and sat facing her. He glanced down to the stylus, then back at her, amazed at what she had just done. "Where did you learn to do that?" he breathed.

Mara looked away immediately, deeply uncomfortable. She clasped her hands tightly in front of her and shifted in her seat, almost as if she were about to move, but Luke reached out to hold her in place. His hand remained resting on her arm and he felt her relax just slightly.

Since that one afternoon in the gym many months ago, Luke had never again brought up the Force around Mara. It was obvious that she was uncomfortable with the subject and he did not want to ruin their relationship, whatever its nature, by pressing the issue. It was incredibly difficult for him, as he had so many questions and nobody to answer them. Mon Mothma and some of the other, older member of the Alliance had told him what they had remembered about the Jedi Order, but that didn't help him much when it came to advancing his skills. Sure, Luke now knew a basic history of the Jedi Order, but that was it. His skills had grown slightly with his irregular, inadequate practice, but he hadn't even come close to doing what Mara had just done. He had tried, but just couldn't get himself to open up to the Force like he needed to.

Now, after seeing Mara levitate the stylus, all his vows that he would not talk to Mara about the Force until she broached the subject flew out the window. He had to know.

She didn't answer his question, so he asked again: "Where did you learn to do that?"

"I…" she trailed off, staring down at the stylus.

"Mara, please. That was _amazing. _You have to tell me—"

She glared up at him and he gulped, knowing instantly that he had said the wrong thing. "I don't have to tell you anything, Farmboy," she spat.

He held out his hand. "No, you're right—you don't. But I'm begging you, Mara. Please."

Mara shook her head. "Why should I tell you anything? I told you I don't want to talk about this. I don't have the answers you want."

"But you do!" he practically shouted. "Mara…for the past year I have been trying so hard to hone my Jedi skills. My awareness in the Force has increased so much, but I still can't _do_ anything."

"You knew when to shoot and blow up the Death Star. You use the Force every day when you fly," she countered.

"Yes, exactly! I do those things, and yet I still can't do what you just did! Do you know how hard I've been trying to move things with the Force? I've managed to make a stylus twitch, and that's about it."

"You can learn. It just takes time."

"It wouldn't have to if you'd just confide in me. I'm your CO, I don't understand why you can't trust me."

"It has nothing to do with trust, Luke."

"Then what?"

"I'm not that good, okay!"

Luke stared at her incredulously. "What are you talking about? I saw what you just did."

"Yeah, big deal, I lifted a stylus five centimeters off the table, and it took all my concentration to do just that, so that I didn't even sense you come in here. Do you know how embarrassing that is?"

"Why would that be embarrassing? You're better than I am. I'm the one who should be embarrassed."

"No, Luke. That's the thing." Finally she looked up and met his gaze, her green eyes twinkling intensely. "You…you are so powerful in the Force, you have no idea. I sensed it immediately on Dantooine. You…you could be more powerful than my old master."

"So you _were_ trained by a Jedi—!"

"Let me finish! Yes, I know how to do stuff. Simple stuff, like what you just saw. It was taught to me as part of my training, just another tool to use in my arsenal. But nothing more. I was told that I just wasn't that powerful.

"But you, Luke…you _are_ powerful, and I can't take responsibility for teaching you what little that I know."

"I'm not asking you to train me, Mara. Just show me what you know, so that maybe I can get better."

"I don't know if I can even do that. I'm not as good as I used to be. I haven't done something like that—" She pointed at the stylus. "—In a very long time. And as you saw, it barely happened at all."

They both stared at the stylus in silence. Luke reached out with his senses and felt the truth in Mara's words, but most of all, he felt her fear that she still was holding close to her heart. His stubbornness flared once again and he _needed _to convince her to confide in him.

Very slowly, his hand inched across the table again until their fingers were barely touching. When she didn't flinch away, Luke clasped his fingers around hers. "Mara…what did you mean by your 'training'?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Please. You can trust me, Mara."

She bit her lip and still avoided his eyes, but he could feel her opening up infinitesimally to his essence, along with her desire to trust him. It seemed like a very difficult thing for her to do and he waited for her to feel comfortable.

Glancing around, as if she were worried that someone might overhear him, she finally opened up to him. "I was an Imperial agent, Luke."

"Well yeah. I know that."

"No, Luke. It's not like you think." She looked up at him again. "I'm not from Alderaan. I didn't go to the academy. I was an Imperial agent, chosen from an early age and trained to be the best."

Luke leaned back in his chair, somewhat gobsmacked, but for some reason he did not feel deceived. "That's why you knew all about interrogation."

Her brow furrowed for a moment, but then her eyes flashed in recognition and she nodded. "Yeah. I almost blew my cover there."

"But…but you said you weren't a spy. And I know that you weren't. I felt it."

"Luke, I…I was assigned to the _Accuser_ on a mission. But once I got to the Destroyer, I realized that I didn't want to be in the Empire anymore, so I defected with Tycho and the others. I was ashamed, and didn't want to admit what I really was, so I kept up my cover story even when I got to the Alliance. And as time went on, I just couldn't bring myself to tell the truth." She looked up, a look of profound sadness on her face. "I'm _so _sorry for deceiving you. I'll understand if you want me off the squadron."

"What?" Luke said, genuinely confused.

"I lied to you. I lied to everyone. They…they're gonna kick me out, aren't they? I should leave—" She abruptly rose from the table.

Luke's hand reached out to grab her arm and force her to stay at the table. "You're not going anywhere."

"What?"

"Mara, I don't _care_ what you were in the Empire. You defected on Dantooine. It doesn't matter if you were a pilot or an Intelligence agent or even a cook. You came over to our side, and that's all that matters. And if you can pull your sim scores without even having been through a flight school, well, then I definitely still want you on my squadron."

"But I lied to you. I lied to everyone..."

"I would know if you lied to me, Mara."

"Weren't you just saying how much you don't know about the Force?"

Now Luke was the one to break their gaze. "Yes…but I know _this_. I know you didn't lie."

"You asked me if I was a spy. I said I wasn't. I lied."

"Were you acting as a spy when you came to the Alliance?"

"I was a spy—"

"Did you have any intentions to betray the Alliance after you arrived on _Home One_?"

Mara shook her head slowly. "No."

"Then that's all that matters."

"You really don't care?"

"I do care…but that's not the point, Mara. The point is, that you're in the Alliance now. Just like Tycho, Rade, and Zurel. Just like Hobbie, and Han, as much as he wants to deny it. Nothing else really matters."

"Okay," she said, her voice small. "Will you tell anyone?"

Luke closed his eyes, considering. He _should _tell someone—Leia, or General Cracken, or even Han—but he couldn't bring himself to do it. She had confided in him, and she was deeply worried that her deception would compromise her current place in the Rebellion. Plus, he honestly didn't think that the true nature of her place in the Empire made any difference. That was the past.

He shook his head and she breathed a sigh of relief. "But I still want to know about the Force," he said.

"After knowing that I was taught in the Empire, and you still want me to tell you what I know?"

Luke's eyes widened as he finally realized exactly why she was so hesitant to talk to him about the Force. She might have learned things in a different way—from the Dark Side. "Oh," he murmured.

"Now do you understand?"

He had to ask. "Was it Vader?"

Mara's head snapped up at the mention of the Sith Lord's name. "What?"

"Did Vader teach you?"

"Why would you think _that_?"

"Who else is there?"

"Oh…_oh_," Mara said, as if realizing something. Luke almost pounced on that but she kept talking, not giving him a chance to speak. "No, it wasn't Vader. It was someone else."

"Who?"

"…A captive Jedi kept in the Palace. He was forced to teach me."

"What happened to him?"

"They killed him, after it was deemed that I knew enough."

"Well, if a Jedi taught you, then I still want to learn."

"Luke…" Mara trailed off and reached out for the stylus. She twirled it around in her fingers a few times, considering it. "I'll think about it."

"Really?"

"I'm not a teacher, Luke. You're older than me, you're more powerful than me—"

"I think that's debatable."

"It's not, trust me. I might feel comfortable showing you a few things, but that's it. I didn't learn the inner workings of the Force or any of that. I just learned enough to do my job. I wasn't really trained as a Jedi, and that's how you should be trained. You're much too powerful not to be."

"I understand. And I appreciate you considering it, Mara. I really do."

"I know."

"Can you show me again?" he asked, pointing at the stylus. Perhaps if he watched her levitate something, he could sense her through the Force and it would give him enough knowledge to learn the skill himself.

Mara smiled at the eagerness in his voice. "I'd love to, but I have to get going." She glanced at her chrono pointedly. "Someone scheduled me to be in the sims in five minutes."

"I'll have to tell that guy what an idiot he is," Luke replied, grinning.

"I'll be sure to tell Wedge for you."

Laughing, Luke got up from his chair and helped Mara out of hers. She glanced at him shyly and grabbed the stylus before heading towards the door.

They walked down the hallway in silence, holding on to each other tentatively, then arrived at the point where it was time for their paths to separate. They said a polite good-bye, then Mara turned to make her way to the sims.

After she had walked a few steps, Luke called out to her, remembering something she had said. "Mara?"

She turned around to face him. "Yes?"

He moved close to her and spoke softly, so nobody else could hear. "What was your mission on the _Accuser_?"

She gave him a questioning look. "What?"

"You said you were placed onboard the _Accuser_ for a mission. What was it?"

Mara glanced down at her feet, her eyes turning harder than he'd ever seen them, even on Dantooine. "You don't want to know."

She walked away before he could ask anything else.


	17. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

Leia didn't mind that a Command meeting had been scheduled immediately after the memorial. She preferred it that way, actually. She knew that some people whispered about how Princess Leia hardly showed any emotion regarding the destruction of her home planet, but those close to her knew better. She cried by herself in her room late at night. She wrote letters to her dead mother and father. She talked with her best friend and adopted sister, Winter, about all they had lost.

But she was a High Councilor in the Rebel Alliance, and it was her job to help restore freedom to the galaxy. She could not do that if she was overcome with grief. So she pushed aside her sadness when it was necessary, and vowed to continue making her father proud.

Although she was glad for the distraction, Leia was also glad that the meeting wasn't scheduled to last long. She was starving and had several reports to type up later that night. And of course there was always the possibility that she would run into Captain Solo—not that such a thing would appeal to her, of course. It would just be nice to talk to him again. He'd been surprisingly comforting to her on her father's birthday, the day he had promised that he had no intentions to leave the Alliance. He'd kept his promise, and Leia was happy about that, but nothing else between them had changed. She often wondered why, but had never gathered the courage to ask. She worried that she was imagining things between them. After all, most of the time he was incredibly frustrating and made her want to kill him.

The Rogues had teased that such behavior was just another kind of foreplay. Luke had blushed profusely and assigned the guilty parties to a month of kitchen duty after they'd made that comment.

Leia glanced down at her datapad as she shifted in her cold, hard chair. While the agenda for the Alliance Command meeting was rather short, they were discussing several crucial upcoming missions.

General Crix Madine, a recent defector from the Imperial Army, was standing at his chair, going over a plan to assault supply lines leaving the bacta-producing planet Thyferra. The world, along with all bacta-producing planets, were under tight Imperial control, and all previous attacks by the Alliance had been disastrous. But with General Madine's new expertise, Mon Mothma had authorized a new attack on the supply lines.

"As you can see, the supply lines have several key points where the defenses are weakened. Taking control of just one of these points will allow the Alliance to strike against an outgoing convoy and overrun their forces, at which time our cruisers can sneak in and take possession of the bacta and other supplies. The casualties for such an attack would be minimal."

"Thank you, General Madine," Chief Mothma replied. "You will coordinate with Admiral Ackbar and General Bryl on the attack." Madine nodded to the Mon Calamari and the Sullustan, then resumed his seat.

"Next on the agenda is a status update on Echo Base. General Muvunc?" Just several months ago, Thila base had come under attack and the Alliance had been forced to evacuate at a moment's notice. Mon Mothma and General Rieekan were both antsy to move to a new location.

Ral'Rai Muvunc, the green-skinned Twi'lek who controlled the Ordnance and Supply division, followed Madine's lead and stood to give his report. "Thank you, ma'am." He tapped a key on his chair, and the holographic map the center of the briefing room table sprung to life. "As you can see, the planetary defenses have been strengthened since our last report. The final step, which is the base shield, should be operational in a month's time."

General Muvunc tapped another key, and the map changed to a hologram, showing an external view of Echo Base. The camera zoomed through the large entry doors, then began traveling down the small corridors. "Similar to Thila base, Echo Base is largely constructed underground, with the entrances and hangars at ground level. These areas were previously occupied. Several new areas are nearing completion and will be ready for habitation as soon as the base shield is operational. At that point, I recommend shifting the Command staff to the base."

"Thank you, General Muvunc," Mon said. "General Rieekan, Chief Ruk'fey, and I will compile a list of the staff members who will transition first. Are there any questions?" The middle-aged woman glanced around the table, then nodded. "If there is no other business, I would like to move to the final item on the agenda."

Leia once again shifted in her seat while calling up the appropriate files on her datapad. She had read the outline for this mission and knew that she was the right person for this mission. Not only that, but she had been stuck on _Home One_ for an extended period of six weeks, much longer than she'd ever stayed in one place since joining the Rebellion, and she was beginning to get antsy.

It was _not_, as Han Solo had so unwisely claimed, because she missed sleeping in his ship. She merely missed her work.

"I assume you all have read the report about the mission to the Shelsha sector to recruit their various forces into the Alliance." Everyone at the table nodded. "Very well. Their leader, Yeeru Chivkyrie, is an Adarian and will only be recruited by someone of a higher tier that he. There are many of us who fit that rank, but only one who is sure to accomplish the task."

With that, the regal woman turned to Leia…who grinned like a schoolgirl. "You can count on me, ma'am."

"I knew I could, Princess. I assume that you would like to travel with Captain Solo for this mission?"

Leia furrowed her brow. _Why _would she assume such a thing? Leia huffed under her breath. "Actually, ma'am, whatever transport is available would be more than adequate for this mission."

"As a matter of fact, Captain Solo has already volunteered his services."

_I'm sure he has._Leia's heart skipped a beat. "Well. I suppose it'll be just like old times, then." She sank back in her chair, unable to determine if she should be happy or frustrated at this turn of events. At the very least, the trip would be very entertaining—for Chewbacca.

"Commander Skywalker has also volunteered Rogue Squadron, and they will escort you to just outside the system. You will be meeting on Drunost, so feel free to call for backup if any trouble arises."

Leia nodded. There was a Rebel Alliance base on Drunost, and several supply lines ran through the planet.

"If there are no other comments or questions, then this meeting is adjourned."

Leia stood up to stretch, then grabbed her belongings and made to leave the room. She was stopped, however, by Chief Mothma. "Princess Leia, I'd like to introduce you to Crix Madine."

Leia nodded and shook the general's hand. It had been a huge coup for General Madine to defect from the Empire; the HoloNet was constantly displaying the many warrants for his arrest. He was the highest ranking Imperial to ever come over to the Alliance's side, and Leia knew that his knowledge could help turn the tide of battle. "It's an honor, sir," she said politely.

"The pleasure is mine," he returned. "I am grateful to have found such acceptance in the Alliance."

"Anyone who wants to fight the Empire is welcome here, General Madine," Chief Mothma said. "Princess, would you care to join us for some dinner?"

"Oh," Leia replied, suddenly feeling shy and overwhelmed. While she had grown into a confident leader in the Alliance, she was well aware of her youth compared to the other Command staff and often felt more at home with Luke and the Rogues. But the daughter of Bail Organa would never refuse an invitation from Chief Mothma. "It would be my pleasure, ma'am, sir."

Leia walked with them to the mess, still amazed that the Commander in Chief of the Rebel Alliance insisted on eating in the mess with her soldiers. But that, after all, was one of the reasons why Leia fought for the Alliance and not the Empire. She couldn't imagine Emperor Palpatine eating in the commissary in the Imperial Palace amongst a legion of stormtroopers. She had to suppress a chuckle at the very humorous image that ran through her mind.

The three of them sat down in an inconspicuous corner of the mess and began to discuss Leia's upcoming mission to the Shelsha sector. Leia grew excited, knowing that she'd soon again have the opportunity to prove her worth to the Rebellion.

And if Han Solo acted nicely to her, maybe the trip would be doubly advantageous.

If not, well, at least she could brush up on her dejarik skills with Chewbacca.

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By the time Mara left the simulator, she was still somewhat reeling from her spontaneous confession about her past to Luke. She still couldn't believe that she had admitted that she had been a high-ranking Imperial agent, and even more, that Luke had not seemed bothered at all by that fact. In his mind, she was still the soldier who had defected to the Rebellion many months ago on Dantooine. She knew that he wasn't just acting like everything was okay in order to ease her mind, either; he really and truly didn't care about the true nature of Mara's status in the Empire.

While she felt somewhat horrified that she had told him a modified version of the truth, she felt even more horrified that she hadn't confessed the entire truth. She knew that confiding in him would be the right thing to do, but she just couldn't bring herself to tell him that she had been the Emperor's Hand. Sure, it was no problem for the great Luke Skywalker to accept that the object of his affection had once been an Imperial agent; would he be able to accept that she had once been Emperor Palpatine's secret assassin? Would Luke be disgusted to learn that she had once shared a mental bond with the Emperor? Would Luke hate her after he learned all that she had done in under Palpatine's command?

No; she couldn't bring herself to tell him. It had been difficult enough trying to explain her knowledge of the Force. He had accepted her explanation, and hopefully he would never again bring up the topic.

_Yeah, right. That will happen right around the time Skywalker stops volunteering the Rogues for every mission in the Alliance. _Mara laughed at herself as she traveled through the corridors that led towards her room, in need of a shower and some rest before yet another mission briefing with Rogue Squadron.

Before she got to the turn off, however, her stomach rumbled audibly and she decided to make a quick detour to the mess. Besides, what did she care what she looked like during the mission briefing? She doubted that the other pilots cared what they looked like around Skywalker.

But kriff it all, she did.

Mara sighed, thoughts wandering back to when her life seemed so simple—when the Emperor gave her a command and she followed it without question. She hadn't been content then, but she also hadn't been fretting like a schoolgirl over a boy she could never have.

Mara entered the mess, trying very hard to forget about her confusing feelings, when her past smacked her directly in the face.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Mara stuttered as she bent to pick up her datapad. "I didn't see you there." She stood up…and found herself face-to-face with Mon Mothma, Leia Organa, and the newest member of Alliance Command—Crix Madine.

The high-ranking general who had recently defected from the Empire.

Mara forced herself to hide her shock, while Leia gave her a genuine smile. "Hi, Mara! I'm sorry I haven't gotten a chance to speak with you lately. Busy busy; you know how it is."

Mara nodded, trying her best not to stare at the bearded general. "Oh, yeah. We'll have to get together soon."

"I'll have Winter comm you." Leia stepped forward and gave Mara a hug. The redhead returned it tentatively, still uncomfortable with displays of affection, before turning to Chief Mothma.

"Ma'am," Mara acknowledged, saluting crisply. "I apologize for the mishap."

"No mishap at all, lieutenant. Have you met General Madine?"

Mara turned to the former Imperial, her mind and heart still racing. She vividly remembered a mission she'd undertaken a year ago, when she had provided assistance to Madine's group of storm commandos. She had never come in contact with him personally, but they'd spoken via HoloNet several times. Mara had to imagine that Madine was the type of man who never forgot a face—or a voice.

She cleared her throat. "I haven't had the pleasure yet. Sir." Again she saluted.

He returned her gesture and shook her hand. "This is Lieutenant Mara Jade of Rogue Squadron," Leia introduced. "Mara, you and the general have something in common; he just defected from the Empire."

"Yes, I know," Mara said; the story of his defection had spread like wildfire over the past several days. When she'd first heard the story, Mara had hoped she would never be introduced to the former Imperial general. Now, she could have kicked herself for not formulating a plan of attack much earlier. What if he recognized her? Sure, she could lie; nobody in the Empire knew what her name had been, after all. But Madine was smart; surely he'd be able to figure out if she was lying.

Thankfully, that was not necessary for the time being, as Madine didn't seem to show any sign of knowing her. He merely smiled, then nodded sadly. "Congratulations for getting out of the Empire, lieutenant."

"Same to you, general." After an awkward good-bye, the trio brushed past Mara, allowing her to enter the mess. Even though she had completely lost her appetite, she forced herself to pick up a ration bar anyway. She needed strength. Mara sighed, realizing that her desire for fuel was just another aspect of her old training forcing itself to the surface.

Mara sat down at an empty table, absentmindedly chewing her bar while contemplating the gravity of what had just happened. What would she do if Madine recognized her? What would _he _do? Would he first approach Alliance Command, and force Cracken to perform yet another search of Mara's background, or would he come right out to confront Mara about her status in the Empire? Would he believe her even if she confessed? Most high level officers in the Empire knew the rumor of the Emperor's Hand, but had never had occasion to meet her face-to-face. Many times officers had balked at Mara's claim to be the Emperor's Hand—until she quoted her recognition code, of course. Then everyone would clamor to be at her service.

She had used that recognition code with Madine, and they had even strategized on a mission. At the time, she had insisted on speaking with Madine through audio link only, as she did with all her contacts. Now, she was eternally grateful that she'd had such foresight. If Madine had recognized her outright…

Mara shook her head, forcing herself to push the anxiety out of her mind and focus on something she _could_ change. The best thing to do would be to tell Skywalker everything before the truth was revealed in a horrible way. Luke would understand. He had the Force, and he would know how much she regretted her past life and how much she wanted to make up for what she once was.

He would understand, but would he forgive? She suddenly was unsure, remembering what Luke had confessed to her not long after she'd arrived in the Alliance—that Darth Vader had killed his father, a Jedi Knight. Mara had worked with the Sith Lord on many occasions while serving as the Emperor's Hand. Luke had the capacity to forgive many things…but could he forgive someone who had once assisted the monster who had killed his father?

"Mara?"

Startled by the voice, Mara jumped several centimeters out of her chair, then immediately chastised herself. She should never have allowed someone to sneak up on her while she was preoccupied. Not _all_aspects of her training as the Emperor's Hand were bad, she reminded herself.

She quickly forced a smile on her face. "Hi, Winter. How are you?"

Winter Retrac, the Intelligence officer who had first escorted her and the other defectors around _Home One_, stood across from her. The pair had become good acquaintances, maybe even friends, over the past six months, and often ate dinner together or talked about silly female things that Mara never dared bring up around the Rogues—unless she was trying to make them very uncomfortable. Despite their budding friendship, Mara still felt somewhat awkward around the Agent Retrac. Maybe it was because Winter had been adopted into the Organa family after her parents had died, and Mara still did not know how to act around Leia. Luke and Leia were such close friends, and once or twice Mara had gotten the impression that Leia felt Mara was infringing on her territory. Of course, those feelings had subsided just as quickly as they'd manifested, but that didn't ease Mara's concerns very much.

"Very well, thank you," Winter replied. "However, I have a problem with which I hope you can assist me."

"Sure, have a seat." Mara gestured to the empty chair across the table.

"This problem is one that needs to be discussed in private, I'm afraid."

"Let me guess—a certain Alderaanian is giving you trouble?" Winter blushed a fierce shade of pink and Mara gave a knowing smile. She'd recently become aware that Tycho and Winter were spending a lot more time together. Tycho had insisted that he and Winter were just reminiscing about Alderaan, but his protests had fallen on deaf ears. The other Rogues were already ribbing him mercilessly; Mara had been nice so far, but she couldn't wait pay back Tycho for all the times he'd teased her about Luke. Perhaps now was the time to gain some ammunition.

"Don't worry," Mara said, rising from the table and guiding the Intelligence agent from the mess. Although she couldn't wait to tease her surrogate older brother about his love life, she did genuinely want him to be happy. He, more than anyone in the galaxy, deserved it. Mara gave Winter an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder. "Your secret is safe with me. Now, let's go to my room and have a nice, long talk about Mr. Celchu."

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Looking down at his datapad, Luke walked into the briefing room, still reeling from his conversation with Mara but trying his best to concentrate on the upcoming mission to the Shelsha sector. He'd had a bad feeling ever since Mon Mothma had told him of the mission, which was why he'd immediately volunteered. If Leia was in trouble, he wanted the Rogues to be there to help her.

He was so distracted with his thoughts about Mara's confessions and his concerns about the upcoming mission, that he didn't even notice that he already had a full audience when he stepped inside the briefing room.

Luke's eyes widened in surprise as he took in the neat rows of expectant Rogues. He immediately knew that something was wrong; his pilots never arrived to a briefing before he did, and they definitely never looked so excited. It was when Luke realized that the briefing room was missing one particular Rogue—Mara—that he knew that he was in deep _poodoo_.

"What the hell's going on?" he asked.

Wes, with his feet propped up on the seat in front of him—Hobbie, that chair's occupant, kept trying to push his feet off—was the first to speak up. "Intervention, boss."

"Intervention? What are you talking about?"

"Jade," Dack answered with a knowing look. "You're mooning over her, just like you did with Princess Leia, only worse. Much worse. So we've decided it needs to stop."

_"We've?"_Luke repeated, staring pointedly at Wedge.

His executive officer nodded gravely. "Sorry, Luke. Don't punish them. This was my idea."

"No it wasn't," Tycho interrupted. The Alderaanian, sitting next to Wedge, stood up. "I suggested this meeting, Commander Skywalker. If you're going to punish anyone, punish me."

Wedge stood up as well. "No, _you_ suggested that we do something about the situation, and _I_ suggested this intervention. So he should blame me."

"I'm not letting you take the fall, Wedge—"

"I don't _care_whose idea this was, okay?" Luke cut in loudly, drawing everyone's attention. Suddenly tired, he dragged a chair to the front of the room to face his subordinates. He sank down into the chair and sighed. "Just get this over with, okay, so we can get on with the mission."

Tycho and Wedge shared a glance, then sat back down. "Well, like we said, boss," Wedge started, "this situation with you and Mara is not—"

"Wait!" Luke sprung from the chair, suddenly nervous. "Where is Mara? If she walks in on this she'll hurt us all, and don't think that's an over-exaggeration."

"Oh, we don't," Tycho said. "That's why we recruited Agent Retrac to keep Mara busy until the briefing."

"Winter? How'd you get her to go along with that?"

Tycho blushed and looked away. "Tycho offered to do something nice for her!" Wes answered for him. "Or _to_ her; we haven't gotten the entire story out of him yet."

Rolling his eyes, Hobbie turned in his chair and finally managed to shove Wes's feet off the backrest. The Taanab native nearly fell off his chair onto the floor. "Ow!" he yelled. "Was that really necessary, Hobbie?"

"Yes!" everyone exclaimed in unison. Wes made a rude gesture.

"The point is," Wedge continued for his now thoroughly embarrassed friend, "that Mara is fully preoccupied for another fifteen minutes."

Luke sat back down and motioned for his pilots begin their analysis of his love life. He suddenly wished he'd thought to bring the bottle of Whyren's Reserve, given to him by Han, that he kept stashed under his bunk. He'd never had occasion to drink it and had never really cared to, until now. "Go on," he sighed.

To Luke's surprise, it was Dack who was the first to get the conversation rolling. "We're worried about you, boss. You're preoccupied, you're not as diligent in the sims as you used to be, and on the last few missions you seemed really distracted. And then this morning you barely seemed alive in the mess, and hardly talked to anyone. As your wingman, I'm worried that you're gonna get yourself vaped if you don't snap out of this funk."

Luke nodded, unable to protest any of Dack's arguments. He had been distracted, ever since Mara had once again overrun his thoughts. It had only gotten worse since their conversation yesterday.

They were right; it needed to stop. If Luke was preoccupied, he'd be getting all his pilots into trouble, especially Dack, his wingman.

But he didn't know the solution. He couldn't stop thinking about her, no matter how hard he tried.

"Look, Luke, we know that you care about her," the normally quiet Zev said. "And it's obvious that she cares about you, too. So we have a plan."

"You have a plan, Zev? Why does that scare the living daylights out of me?"

Zev smiled. "It wasn't just my idea. It was a mutual decision made by all the Rogues." he gestured around the briefing room.

"Oh. That does not make me feel any better whatsoever."

Tiom, one of the newest Rogues, waved his hand dismissively. "Hey, Kit and I approved of the plan too, so it can't be that bad, right?"

"You and Kit have been fully indoctrinated into the Rogue Squadron tradition of antagonizing the commanding officer. Your statement does not reassure me at all."

"Listen Luke." Wedge stood up, taking command of the situation as he often did during briefings. "We discussed the situation with you and Mara, and could only come to one conclusion: you need to forget about the rules and just go be with her."

Slowly, Luke's eyes moved across the room, taking in everyone's expressions. Nobody was smiling or laughing. Luke blinked incredulously at his XO. "You're not serious."

"We're very serious."

"This is a ridiculous idea, Wedge."

"It's not, Luke," Tycho said, joining Wedge to stand in front of the other Rogues. Luke had been grateful that Tycho had assumed somewhat of a leadership role since joining the squadron, but now all he wanted to do was slap the Alderaanian. "It is very necessary for the survival of the unit."

"You're telling me to _break regulations,_" Luke emphasized. "I can't do that!"

"Why not?" Wes asked.

"Why not? Because I'm in charge! I'm not like you, known across the Alliance for always getting into trouble."

Dack grinned. "You should, then people would expect this of you."

"Listen, boss," Wedge said. "Why do regulations exist? To keep people safe, right? Well, how is you being separated from Mara keeping all of us safe? It's not, and therefore it would be for the best if you just pretended that this rule didn't exist and went for it with her."

"Of course, this is all assuming that she wants to be with me too, _and _that she's willing to break regulations as well."

"Stop being modest, Luke," Rade piped up from the back of the room. "It's obvious that she likes you."

Luke still wasn't very confident, and his cheeks warmed upon hearing the insistence that Mara wanted him as much as he wanted her. "Okay, fine, but what if we get caught? Base isn't very big, you know."

"We'll cover for you, and if you do get caught you know that Alliance Command will turn a blind eye."

"Why would you agree to help me break regulations?"

Again, Tycho and Wedge shared a glance. "I'm here for Mara," Tycho said.

"And I'm advocating you," Wedge added. "The both of you have been miserable lately, and you're driving us nuts."

"It's true," Tycho agreed.

"And we don't want to get killed," Wedge said.

"So to protect the squadron—"

"And preserve our sanity—"

"We say you should forget this rule ever existed and go for it with Mara." Tycho smiled. "It's for the best, really."

"Oh yeah?" Luke raised an eyebrow. "And when have _you_ ever broken a rule, Tycho?"

"Dantooine," Tycho replied without missing a beat. "And every day I stay in the Alliance."

"We're Rebels, Luke," Zev said. "Yes, regulations are important, but they only go so far. Plus, that rule is in place to protect subordinates from misbehavior. Do you really think that Mara needs protection from you?"

"Hell no," Luke admitted. "I'm the one who probably needs protection from her."

"Exactly," Hobbie said. "You would never take advantage of Mara, and she would never let you. She'd kill you first. Or just beat you up. Either way, it's irrelevant in this situation."

"Plus," Tycho said, "you'd have to deal with me if you ever pulled any shenanigans."

"Are you threatening me, Tycho? Do I need to write you up for insubordination?"

"She's like my sister, Luke. Of course I'm threatening you. Would you not do the same if any one of us hurt someone you cared about?"

Luke thought back to that conversation with Han in the _Falcon _several months ago. "I guess I can't blame you. But I still want to write you up for insubordination," he added, grinning.

"So, what do you say, boss?" Wedge asked, rubbing his hands together. "Are the Rogues going into collusion in a cover-up operation?"

Luke opened his mouth, about to say yes…but something stopped him, something he'd come to know intimately over the past year—a prodding from the Force.

He thought of Mara, and her confession to him the previous day. She had been desperately worried that someone would find out her secret and she'd be forced to leave Rogue Squadron, the Alliance, and all that she had come to call home. Could he really ask her to keep another secret?

Did _he_ want to keep such a secret? He'd learned many things about the Jedi from Mon Mothma, who'd been a senator with close ties to the Order. The most disturbing of all was Chief Mothma's revelation that the Jedi, at least the ones who trained and lived on Coruscant, were not allowed attachments. They could not get married or have families. This new piece of information shocked Luke, as Ben had never mentioned anything like that in their short time together. Also, nobody in the Alliance had seemed to bat an eye when Luke turned up, claiming to be the son of a long-dead Jedi Knight. Perhaps the desperation of the situation shoved aside all their questions over how Luke's existence was possible.

But Luke couldn't stop thinking about it. He remembered a day not long ago, when he lied awake in bed well into the night, thinking about his parents. He had so many questions about their relationship, the identity of his mother, if they had been married or if it was a whirlwind romance that ended tragically. Somehow he knew that his parents had loved each other deeply. Why had they decided to keep their romance a secret? How had that been possible after his mother got pregnant?

Luke was unable to comprehend how his father could have kept such a relationship a secret. He vowed then and there that he would _not _follow in his father's footsteps on that particular issue. He did not want to keep his feelings for Mara, or any other woman he cared about, a secret. He wasn't that type of person. Besides, if the attachment issue was so important, wouldn't Ben have mentioned it to him? Luke could only come to the conclusion that such rules were no longer relevant.

So Luke shook his head sadly, unable to accept the Rogues' offer. "I can't, guys. Thank you for this, I really do appreciate it. You're really great friends. But I can't lie about this. I can't keep my feelings a secret, and I don't want to ask Mara to have to do the same."

Tycho and Wedge nodded and resumed their seats. "I had a feeling you would say that," Wedge said. "But it was worth a shot."

"You need to do _something_, though," Tycho said. "Talk to her about your feelings. Maybe you could work something out."

"I can't ask her to leave the squadron," Luke instantly protested.

"I'm not saying that you should," Tycho replied. "But, maybe she would on her own accord."

"Oh, I don't think so."

"You don't? If she was your commanding officer, would you request a transfer so that you could be with her?"

"Yes." The word was out of his mouth before Luke realized what he was saying.

Tycho looked at him knowingly. "See?"

Maybe Tycho was right…but as Luke thought on the idea, he just couldn't see it happening. Mara had worked so hard to become a part of Rogue Squadron, and after what she had confessed to Luke yesterday, he couldn't imagine her giving it all up just to be with him. It wasn't worth it—was it?

"Luke!" Wedge admonished. "Stop thinking. Just do it. We're at war; you might never have another chance."

"Okay, okay, I'll talk to her." Luke ran his hands through his hair and sighed. Then he stood up and affected his commanding officer pose. "Now. Is this intervention over?"

Tycho smiled. "Yes. Everyone else needs to get out of here before Mara gets here, realizes we're up to something, and wounds us all."

Luke paled. "Agreed."

His pilots, with the exception of Tycho and Wedge, filed out of the briefing room. Luke took his place behind the podium and began flipping through the mission summary on his datapad. Tycho and Wedge walked over to him, obviously wanting to make sure he was okay.

Luke smiled at them, suddenly feeling more upbeat than he had in days. "I'll be fine, guys. We'll figure something out."

"Good," Tycho said. "But if you hurt her, I'll kill you."

Luke rolled his eyes. "If I hurt her, _she'll _kill me."

"That is true."

Luke chuckled. "You know, this whole crazy situation could have been avoided if I'd just taken Mara's suggestion to heart."

"Oh really?" Wedge raised an eyebrow. "And what suggestion would that be?"

"Oh, back when she first arrived she said something about how she was good at interrogation, and that I should talk to Cracken about her being in Intelligence. It was just a silly joke."

Now Tycho was the one to raise an eyebrow. "You know she went through basic Intelligence training at the academy, right? They used her a few times for questioning when we were stationed on the _Accuser._"

"That's not surprising," Luke mumbled.

Wedge grinned slyly. "I suddenly have an idea…"

"Oh, I don't like the sound of that."

"No, this is a good one, boss. Possibly the best I've ever had."

"As opposed to all your other 'great' ideas?"

"Hey, you're the one who named me XO. You have to trust my judgment; it's in the handbook. Don't worry, I'll get Tycho to help on this."

Luke began to bang his head against the podium. At that moment, Mara walked in the room. The three men looked up in fear and she gave them all a weird look. "I don't want to know," she said, then took a seat and buried her face in her datapad.

Tycho and Wedge took their seats, then the other Rogues slowly filed in, under the guise that it was their first time in the room. Luke forced himself to breathe steadily, doing his best to ignore Mara's shining Force presence, and forget about his promise to talk to her soon. They had a mission to accomplish first, once that, for some reason, he knew would require his full attention.

Mara looked up for a moment, met his eye, and gave him a shy smile.

Gods, Luke hoped whatever hair-brained idea Wedge had come up with was as good as his XO promised.


	18. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

Luke circled around his X-wing, inspecting the craft and pulling at the S-foils as had become his superstition before a mission. Over the past year his pilots had taken up his habit of personally inspecting their spacecraft, that he himself had picked up while piloting all types of unreliable ships on Tatooine, so that the entire squadron was shuffling around the hangar before preparing to leave for yet another mission. Off in the distance, Han and Chewbacca were loading supplies for the Rebel base into the _Millennium Falcon_. The older man met Luke's eyes and they shared a wave, while Chewbacca gave a hearty howl in good-bye.

Luke was just about to climb the ladder into his cockpit when he felt a small hand fall on his shoulder. He turned around, almost expecting to see Mara, but was pleasantly surprised to see Leia instead. "I just wanted to say good-bye before we left," Leia said. "You almost ready to go?"

"I think so," Luke replied, glancing around the hangar to the rest of the pilots, who were either finishing their inspections or getting settled into their X-wings. He wondered why Leia had felt the urge to say good-bye to him; maybe for the same reason he'd felt unnerved about the upcoming mission for the past few days. "You?"

Leia glanced back at the _Millennium Falcon, _then nodded. "I guess so. This will be an interesting trip at the very least."

"Han still giving you trouble?"

"He's always giving me trouble; why should that have changed?"

Luke shrugged innocently. "No reason."

"Whatever." Leia smacked his arm. "You of all people shouldn't be giving me grief."

"Oh, why's that?"

"Wedge told me what happened."

"He did, did he? You guys really are trying to control my life, aren't you?"

"Not at all. If I was, I would be grabbing you by the shoulders and telling you to stop being an idiot and go for it with Mara."

Luke stared at her in shock. "What? _You _of all people think I should lie?"

Leia nodded. "I agree with Wedge. I think it'd be for the best."

"Well did he tell you my decision?"

"Considering Mara isn't over here saying good-bye, I'd wager that you refused their plan."

"I did."

"May I ask why?"

He glanced back to Mara, who was doing her best to focus on her X-wing and avoid staring at Luke and Leia. He sighed. "I just can't keep something like that a secret. I like her a lot, Leia. It wouldn't feel right. I'd be living a lie."

"I understand that, but the Rogues are right, Luke. You need to do something about the situation before you get yourself hurt."

"I know. And I will, when we get back. Wedge has a plan."

"Wedge has a plan? Oh dear. Well, whatever you decide, you know I'll support you—right?"

Luke smiled and they hugged. "I know, and thanks." He pulled away and gave her a mischievous smile. "And you know the same is true for you, right?"

Leia straightened up and affected her best "Princess" pose. "I don't know what you are talking about, Commander Skywalker."

"Sure you don't, Your Highnessness."

"Oh, don't you start that now, too!"

He pulled Leia into another hug. "Be well, and don't kill Han on the way to Drunost."

"I can't promise that."

"Leia."

"Fine! I promise I won't kill him, as long as he promises to act like a civilized human being."

"Hey, Your Worshipfulness! We're waiting for your pretty little behind to get onboard!"

Leia's face turned pink and Luke clasped his hand over his mouth to cover up his laughter. "Looks like Chewbacca is gonna have to fly the _Falcon_ by himself," Luke teased.

"Oh, shut up. Go kiss your girlfriend good-bye."

"Leia!"

"Bye, Luke."

"Good-bye, Leia."

He watched his old friend approach the _Falcon_, exchange several harsh words with Han, then climb up the ramp in a huff. Han turned to give Luke a thumbs up, that trademark grin plastered across his face. Luke laughed and saluted in return.

Finally, Luke turned back to his X-wing…and came face-to-face with Mara.

She swallowed hard, looking like she was wondering why she'd approached him in the first place. "Um, hi. I just wanted to say…um…fly well."

Luke's lips turned into a warm smile. "Same to you, Mara."

The redhead smiled back, looked down awkwardly at her feet, then pointed back to her ship. "I guess I should get going…"

"Wait." Luke's voice stopped her cold, and he stepped forward to place his hand on her shoulder. Wedge had reported to him earlier that morning with full details of his devious plan, and Luke had to hand it to his XO—the plan was definitely inspired. Now all he needed was to speak with Mara about it.

She looked up at him with her beautiful green eyes, and Luke took a deep breath. "Mara, I was hoping…when we get back…I was hoping we could talk."

"Oh?"

Luke bit his lip but still held her gaze. It was now or never. "About us."

Mara looked down at her feet. "Oh."

_Great, now you've made her uncomfortable!_"We don't have to, I understand completely, it was just a thought, just say the word and I'll never mention it again—"

"No." Her word was emphatic, and she stepped towards him until her body was almost flush with his. "No…I mean…I would like that a lot…Luke."

He broke out into a huge grin. "I'll be looking forward to it." Then, in a surge of recklessness that probably would've gotten him killed in most situations, he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. She turned her face at the last minute…and their lips touched.

It only lasted a moment, but Luke never wanted it to end.

They broke apart immediately, and her fingers were on her lips and her cheeks were flushed. Luke wanted nothing more than to grab her and pull her into the nearest storage closet and kiss her until the galaxy stopped turning, but he had a job to do—they both did.

Their conversation—and the kiss—would have to wait.

With a bounce in his step, Luke climbed up the ladder to his cockpit and pulled on his helmet. He was the last to get in his X-wing. With renewed confidence, he keyed on his comm. "Rogues, this is Leader. All wings report in."

The Rogues went through their roll call, some teasing and others with a congratulatory tone. Mara, for her part, sounded confident and, dare he say, flirtatious. He smiled as she spoke: "Rogue Ten, ready when you are." _Oh, I hope you are._

After Zurel had reported in, Luke again turned on his comm. "Alright Rogues, everyone is in the green. You are clear for launch. May the Force be with us."

Luke's X-wing rose on its repulsorlifts, then slowly exited the hangar behind the _Millennium Falcon_. The other Rogues followed him, getting into formation just outside of _Home One._Luke set the jump timer; once it hit zero, he hit his hyperdrive lever and the stars collapsed on themselves.

Luke leaned back in his ejection seat and smiled, the taste of Mara's lips still strong on his. He closed his eyes, and imagined what it would be like to _really _kiss her... He hoped that, soon, he would find out.

He had no more misgivings about the upcoming mission. For the first time in a long time, Luke truly felt that things were looking up.

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Leia was hunched over the dejarik table, furiously scribbling notes from the information Intelligence had provided about the upcoming mission to Drunost. She was always slightly anxious before a mission, this time even more so. One of the groups seeking to join the Alliance was led by an Adarian named Yeeru Chivkyrie. Adarians lived by rigid social standards based on one's tier and Leia wanted to be certain that she didn't make any gross mistakes on this mission. It was deeply important to gain more support in the Shelsha sector, and Mon Mothma had once again entrusted Leia to get the job done.

Leia often wondered why so many people placed so much faith in her abilities. Everyone seemed so confident that Leia would never fail on a mission, that she knew what she was doing, and generally that was the case. But she was only twenty years old, and while nobody would ever say so to her to her face, she couldn't help but think that some people thought negatively of her because of her youth. She vowed never to let her age affect how anyone felt about her, and so she worked even harder to accomplish every task set in front of her.

Winter said that Leia was working herself too hard, a comment that elicited hearty laughter from the Princess. Winter herself was a known workaholic, and thanks to her photographic memory Intelligence was always clamoring to send her on reconnaissance missions. Their passion for their work was one of the things that brought the adopted sisters together, and it helped keep them whole after their world was destroyed.

"Princess?"

A male voice brought Leia out of her reverie; she glanced up to find Han standing in the entrance to the hold. When they'd first met, Leia had been infuriated by his insistence on calling her "Princess." Since then, however, Leia had learned that "Princess" was one of his more polite nicknames, so she didn't mind it anymore. It was almost…nice.

"Hello, Han," she said, nodding politely. She wasn't quite sure when she had stopped solely referring to him "Captain Solo," and she wasn't quite sure what she felt about that development.

"Mind if I sit?"

She did—she had work to do, but she knew Han wouldn't leave her alone, so she moved over on the acceleration couch. Han sat down, leaving a polite distance between them. Leia expected him to start antagonizing her at any moment, but he surprised her by bringing up a topic that never went well between them—only this time, his tone was actually congenial. "So how was Luke?"

Leia glanced at him warily. "He was fine. Why?"

"No reason. I just haven't gotten a chance to talk to the kid lately. Wanted to make sure he was doing alright."

"You mean, you wanted to make sure that his crush on Mara isn't making him crazy?"

Han grinned. "Something like that, yeah. I feel bad, not having seen him around much. He could probably use some good advice."

Leia snorted. "Don't worry. I think he got his fair share of Corellian advice from Lieutenant Antilles the other day. Apparently, the Rogues ambushed him."

"Nice! I knew I could count on Antilles to hold up Corellian tradition. So what happened?"

"Nothing." Leia shrugged. "They advised Luke to ignore regulations and go for it with Mara, that they'd help him cover it up if the two of them got caught and even if they did, Command wouldn't care. But he refused. Said he didn't want to lie."

Han groaned. "That kid! I swear I don't get him. So what were you talking to him about, huh? Congratulating him on taking the high road?"

"Actually, I wasn't."

"You weren't?"

"It seems like there really is a first time for everything, Captain," Leia said, grinning. "We actually agree on this matter."

"Really? _You_ think Luke should throw out regulations so he can kriff Mara?"

"Han!" Leia shoved his arm hard, remembering why she was always so wary about him, and why she constantly reminded herself that he was a no-good scoundrel. "Don't be rude!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said, holding his hands up in apology. "But come on, Leia. You know how guys his age are."

"And what about men your age, Captain Solo?"

"Oh, you'll just have to find that out for yourself," Han replied, leaning back in the chair with a smug look on his face. Leia shook her head in disgust and looked down to resume reading her datapad, but he snatched it out of her hand.

"Hey!" Leia exclaimed.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll save your place," Han promised. "But you need to relax."

"I'll relax when the mission is over. Please give me back the datapad."

"No."

_"No?"_

"No."

Leia snarled and reached for the datapad but Han pulled it away at the last minute, leaving her almost lying on top of him. She instantly pushed herself up to the other end of the couch. "I don't have to sit here and take this—"

But Han's hand was on her arm, pulling her back to the couch. "Sit, Leia. Relax. I promise, I'll be nice."

"I don't think that's possible."

"Well, you should stay and find out. You might be surprised."

Leia glared at him as he flashed one of those stupid grins and for some reason, she found herself agreeing to his request. "Fine."

He leaned towards her, looking a little too full of himself for her tastes. "So, you really think Luke should ignore regulations so he can go have a nice cup of caf with Lieutenant Jade?"

Leia almost laughed at Han's overtures to be polite, but at the last minute she remembered that she was frustrated with him and stopped herself. "Actually, that's exactly what I think. Like the Rogues pointed out, Luke hasn't been as focused as he normally is. I think it would do him a world of good to stop thinking and _do_ something about this. Most of all, he really likes her, Han. A lot. All the Rogues make fun of him for it, but there's something more there doing on between them. I think he might even love her."

"Whoa, whoa whoa—that's a mighty big declaration to make after knowing each other a few months!"

Leia narrowed her eyes. "I didn't say that he should tell her that, Han. I don't even know if it's true yet. But if he gives it a chance, I think that he will eventually. I don't know how to explain it. I just think there's something more there than meets the eye."

"Well, isn't that romantic."

"What's wrong with romance, Captain Solo?"

"Nothin', sweetheart. I happen to love romance."

"I'm sure you do," Leia scoffed.

It was quiet for a moment. Leia's hand slowly crept across the dejarik table towards her datapad, but Han pushed it farther away in return. She nearly stuck her tongue out at him in frustration but caught herself at the last minute. She wouldn't let him goad her like all the other times. There was too much at stake in the upcoming mission for her to allow herself to be distracted.

"Can I ask you a question, Princess?"

Leia sighed. She knew that she should say no, but she also knew that Han wouldn't let up until she gave in. "Sure, why not."

"Why did _you_ never go for it with Luke?"

Leia stared blankly at him for a moment, wondering if she'd misheard him. "Excuse me?"

"You know, Luke. You two are the same age. He saved you on the Death Star. You're obviously pretty close. It doesn't take a genius to figure that you two would've made a good pair."

"It just wasn't like that, Han."

"He wanted it to be."

"I know." Leia shrugged and began to twist a strand of loose hair around her finger. She knew all too well what Luke had thought about her in the early days. She had felt such a strong connection with Luke immediately, and he was such a wonderful friend…and then things grew complicated once it became obvious that he wanted to be more than friends.

And she didn't.

Han was right—on the outside it seemed like a perfect match, but on the inside it just felt _wrong_ to Leia. For a time, she'd considered throwing caution to the wind and seeing if she could have a relationship with her new friend, believing that she was overthinking things as usual and that she needed a distraction from all her new burdens. But every time Leia thought about Luke, she just couldn't consider him as anything more than a friend. It hurt her, knowing that her disinterest was hurting _him_. She didn't want to make him upset. She wanted him to be happy. But she wasn't the right person to make him happy, and she didn't know why.

Perhaps that was the reason why she believed so strongly that Luke should now throw caution to the wind so he could be with Mara Jade. Leia wasn't blind, and knew that some people believed that she was jealous of Luke's new closeness with the redheaded pilot, but it wasn't like that at all. Her connection—her _friendship_—with Luke was something completely different, something she couldn't explain. But it was there, and it was special, and she and Luke were finally free of all the awkwardness that had plagued those first few months, and she was glad.

Finally, Leia glanced up and met Han's curious eyes. "It just didn't feel right."

"That's it? It didn't _feel_ right?"

"Yes."

"You women and your emotions. Sometimes, I really don't get it."

Leia rolled her eyes. "I thought you knew everything about women, Captain?"

"Most of 'em, yeah. But some…some of you keep me flustered."

He stared at her boldly and Leia held his gaze as long as she could before finally turning away in a huff. "Well, anyway, I just never felt that way about him. Plus, I had other things on my mind."

That seemed to pique Han's interest, and he leaned even closer. "Really, Princess? What 'other' things?"

"My work in the Alliance, of course."

"Really? Is that _all _that was keeping your mind off of Luke?"

Leia suddenly realized what he was insinuating and blushed furiously. "Whatever you're implying, Captain Solo, you'd do best to forget about it."

"Oh, I don't agree with that at all."

Once again Leia made a grab for her datapad, but Han blocked her hand and she found herself almost flush against him. She looked up, gaze lingering on his full lips, before locking eyes with him once again. She abruptly pushed herself away. "I don't have time for these sorts of things, Captain Solo. That's why nothing ever happened with Luke."

"I thought you said nothing ever happened with Luke because you didn't feel the same way about him?

"I…yes…you know what I mean!" Oh, he was _so _good at making her flustered—she wanted to scream!

"I think I do, Princess. And I think that you're wrong."

Leia remained facing away from him, but he still reached out and began to slowly trail his fingers along her arm, sending shivers down her spine. She tried to pull away, but she just couldn't. Nobody had ever touched her that way before and surprisingly…it felt good.

_Nobody had ever touched her that way before…_

Her head snapped up abruptly and her hand grasped his, stopping his movements, but she didn't let go. Her gaze turned hard as she finally admitted to herself that yes, she did have some romantic feelings for Han, but nothing could ever come of them even if he reciprocated. "I am ten years younger than you," she reminded him softly.

Han swallowed hard. "I know."

"You…you've been around the galaxy and back. I'm a sheltered Princess."

"You ain't sheltered."

"You've said so yourself."

"Well I take it back."

Leia almost—_almost_—smiled. "I'm just a girl, Han. I'm not what you want."

"Oh, don't you worry, Princess—you are all woman to me." His voice deepened and his other hand reached out grasp her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. Her mind screamed at her to pull away but she couldn't…she just couldn't…

He leaned his head down to whisper in her ear, "And you _are_ what I want."

"No I'm not—"

Without giving her a chance to finish her words, Han leaned in so his mouth was mere millimeters away from hers. He stopped at the last minute, giving her a final chance to pull away, but she didn't. She couldn't. Instead she looked up at him through hooded, lustful eyes, and tried vainly to convince _herself _that this was a bad idea—

"I don't think we should be doing this…"

His mouth, so close to hers, turned up in a smirk. "That's the problem, sweetheart. You think too much."

He bent down, closing the final distance between them—

The _Falcon _lurched, its trademark movement of being pulled out of hyperspace, ending their kiss before it could even begin. Leia fell forward onto Han and he instinctively grabbed her waist with one arm while grabbing the dejarik table with the other, keeping them from flying across the hold. The room was suddenly filled with an awkward silence.

But then Leia looked up at him, a sense of dread growing in the back of her mind that had absolutely nothing to do with her lying across Han's lap. "We weren't supposed to revert yet, were we?" she whispered.

Han shook his head, his expression as serious as her words had sounded. "No, we weren't."

Chewie's howls from the cockpit punctuated their concern. Without another word, the pair bounded off the acceleration couch and sprinted towards the cockpit.

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Running her hands across her instrument panel, Mara checked her hyperspace timer. There was only two hours left before they would arrive at Drunost. She shifted in her seat, trying to stretch her legs and get comfortable. She'd gotten used to sitting in cramped cockpits for extended periods of time, but it was always somewhat uncomfortable. She never complained, nor did any other of the Rogues, but she wouldn't have objected to traveling to their missions in a larger starship. Of course, that was impossible due to the lack of command ships and the need for secrecy on their missions.

Since they'd left _Home One,_ Mara could do nothing else but think about those last few moments with Luke. She placed her finger to her lips, remembering what his had felt like against hers, still in disbelief that he had kissed her…

His lips had felt warm and soft and oh, how she wanted to taste them again. The kiss had sent shivers down her spine, an emotion no man had ever drawn from her before.

Then again, she had never felt so strongly about a man before. She'd had dalliances back in the Palace but nothing serious; she would never have let a relationship come between herself and her work. A relationship would have been a liability, and although he'd never spoken of it directly, she'd known that Palpatine would not have approved of her becoming anything other than physically involved with a man.

But now...the things she felt for Luke were much stronger than a mere teenage crush. She truly cared for him, wanted to learn more about him, wanted to _be_ with him. Even more, she had felt his emotions and knew that he felt the same way about her. She'd been somewhat shocked, wondering when exactly such a strong connection through the Force had manifested, and wondering what would happen between them in the future.

Could they be together? It was against the rules as long as she remained in his squadron. He was her commanding officer. There was one simple solution: she could leave the squadron.

Could she do that? Could she give up something she'd worked hard for, just so she could have a chance at romance, and a normal life?

Luke was special; that had been clear since the moment she first laid eyes on him. And he felt the same way about her—that she was special, too. In the Empire, many men had clamored to be with her, but they hadn't known her at all. She'd just been an ornament, a pretty girl to use as arm decoration or some quick pleasure, not a real person with emotions and feelings and a personality.

But Luke...Luke knew her and he _still_ wanted to be with her.

Oh, _how _did her life end up this way? A year ago she was the Emperor's Hand, serving the Empire without question, confident and feared. Now she was a pilot in the Rebellion…and completely and utterly lovesick for her commanding officer.

She wondered about the conversation they would have once they returned to _Home One_. Had he figured out a way for them to get around regulations? Would he ask her to hide a relationship? Would he ask her to leave the squadron?

Would she actually consider doing such a thing?

Hadn't she already done just that?

She closed her eyes and saw Luke taking her in his arms. She saw herself sitting close with him and confessing her deepest, darkest secrets while he nodded in understanding, hugging her intimately and telling her that everything would be okay. She saw them serving together throughout the war, until the fighting finally ended with the Emperor's death.

Her eyes snapped open—had those possibilities been the results of her overactive imagination, or had they been a message from the Force—visions of the future?

Was that even possible?

Mara didn't have a chance to consider.

Her X-wing lurched and the hyperspace patterns outside her window dissolved into stars. "What the—?" she exclaimed, banging against the console. Had her hyperdrive gone out? She glanced around and saw the other ships around her, so that couldn't be a possibility... "Red, what's going on?" she demanded.

Her astromech blurted a plaintive tweet, and she looked down at her data screen. "Gravity well? But our plot didn't take us near any planets…"

Wes's voice was loud in her helmet as she banked her X-wing in a tight roll, coming up on Tycho's starboard side: "Son of a _schutta_!"

"Cut the chatter, Five!" Luke yelled back, but his admonishment wasn't as harsh at it normally would be.

And, once again looking outside the cockpit, Mara understood why.

They'd been pulled out of hyperspace by an interdictor cruiser.

And directly facing them was the _Executor._


	19. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

Darth Vader sat alone in his barometric chamber, free of the helmet that separated him from the rest of the universe. This was one of the only places where he could feel air on his face, breathe without the assistance of that damned respirator, and see with his own eyes. He craved the silence that accompanied him here, the only place silence was possible.

This was a place of meditation, of contemplation—a place where Vader ruminated on decisions long past and schemed to make dreams become reality. Lately all his thoughts had centered on one being: Luke Skywalker, his son, the only person in the universe who was capable of destroying the Emperor. At one time Vader had been capable of doing so, but all that had been lost after Kenobi's treacherous betrayal. Kenobi's and Padme's…

Unconsciously, Vader pressed the activation button on the small device in his hand. A hologram instantly came to life; a young woman speaking passionately in front of the Senate she had so faithfully served, her hair elaborately coiffed and adorned in a gown that covered her entire body but hid none of her exquisite beauty.

This was the only object in his possession associated with his dead wife. Everything else had been purged of his own accord, so Vader could pretend that she had never existed. But of course that was impossible, for she was the entire reason for Vader's existence. He had done everything for her…and had killed her in the process. It was one of the cruelest ironies of his life.

He stared at the hologram for a moment, listening to her impassioned words about preserving the Republic. The Republic—Vader could only laugh as he imagined what his dear wife would think of him now. She would be fighting against him, would kill him if she ever got the chance, and Vader wouldn't have blamed her one bit. After all, Padme had betrayed him in the first place, and he had killed her in return.

And despite all that, he still loved her.

Could a Sith love? It went against everything his master had ever taught him and yet, Vader couldn't deny it. He had never stopped loving Padme, and he knew deep inside that she had loved him until the very end.

And now, thanks to a spy in the Rebellion, Vader was so close to being reunited with his son—another family member Kenobi had turned against him. Luke Skywalker was his son and Vader would inform him of that fact, and then explain everything to him. He'd complete the boy's training and the two would overthrow the Emperor, just as he had pledged to Padme that horrible day on Mustafar. He had asked her to rule the galaxy with him and she'd refused, but he could not imagine Luke refusing such an offer. Vader had felt it already—Luke was so very much like Anakin.

It would be easy to turn him. It had been for Anakin.

A chime rang, the indication that someone had entered Vader's chamber. He reached out with his senses; it was Captain Piett, come to report on the mission's progress no doubt. With one last look at the woman he'd loved, Vader deactivated the hologram and slowly lowered the helmet back onto his head. After twenty years he was still only able to survive without it for a few minutes at a time and only in this chamber. Vader had once hoped that eventually, with enough time, he would be able to heal himself with the Force.

And that was the other cruel irony of his life—the Dark Side, with all its infinite power, could not heal.

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Piett stood nervously, waiting for Lord Vader to respond to his arrival. As captain of the Super Star Destroyer Piett was more than qualified to make his own decisions, but he had learned in his tenure that it was more than recommended to run information of note past Lord Vader before making any mission critical decisions.

After a very long minute, the circular shaped black mass in the center of the room began to separate. Vader sat facing him, the blank stare of his helmet eerily intense. "What is it, Captain Piett?"

"My lord, according to our data the Rebels should be arriving in the system in approximately ten minutes."

"The interdictor and the tractor beams are online?"

"Yes Lord Vader, the _Black Asp_ is standing by at full power and the _Executor_'s tractor beams are ready."

"And Admiral Ozzel?"

"As you requested, Admiral Ozzel transferred to the _Black Asp_ half an hour ago to direct the battle from its bridge."

"There will be no battle, Captain Piett. We are to take prisoners, and that is all."

Piett bowed his head with military precision. "Yes, my lord."

Without another word, the black chamber closed again, leaving Piett to stand by himself in Vader's private chambers. He couldn't help himself; he glanced around for a moment, wondering exactly what went on inside Vader's black prison. He shuddered, deciding he did not want to know, then headed back to the bridge.

He was not nervous about the upcoming mission. The information they'd received was solid and it would be a simple encounter, as Lord Vader had insisted. Still, this group of Rebels was known to be deadly and failure was not an option. Piett ordered the communications officer, Lieutenant Briggs, to open a secure line with Admiral Ozzel.

"Yes, captain?" the admiral's clipped voice came in over the comm. He sounded annoyed and Piett could not really blame him, but one could never be too diligent while serving Lord Vader. Ozzel, apparently, did not agree.

"Sir, I have just reported to Lord Vader. All stations are ready on the _Executor. _The Rebels will be arriving in approximately five minutes."

"Yes, I know," Ozzel said dismissively. "Our gravity wells are powered up and online. We will snag Vader's precious Rebels."

Piett suppressed a sigh at Ozzel's near-insubordination. He would never understand how Ozzel could be so flippant while serving under Lord Darth Vader. "Yes sir."

"Ozzel out."

Ozzel terminated the connection before another word could be said. Yes, Ozzel was acting far too casual for Piett's tastes. Any mission involving the Rebels that did not go according to plan was sure to result in casualties, and Piett had worked far too hard to let such a fate befall him.

At least he could be satisfied knowing that Vader would be on the bridge for the entire mission and would instantly know if any wrongdoings occurred, and whether or not Piett was responsible for them.

Then again, Piett was the ranking officer on the _Executor _so if anything did go wrong, Vader was well within his right to blame him.

Well, that is why Piett would ensure that nothing went wrong.

Vader stepped onto the bridge and all eyes immediately turned to him. He ignored them all and strode forward, stopping just past Piett and staring out the viewports. "Did you contact Admiral Ozzel?"

"Yes, Lord Vader. Everything is running on schedule. The Rebel ships should be arriving at any moment."

Almost imperceptibly, Vader turned his head to regard Piett before turning back to the blackness of space. "They are here," he rumbled.

Sure enough, a group of ships appeared from hyperspace in between the _Executor_ and the _Black Asp._ The noise on the bridge grew as orders were relayed and battle stations were sounded. Vader held up a hand, beckoning Piett to him before the captain could give any orders. "Do not engage the tractor beam yet, captain," Vader said.

Piett's eyes widened in confusion, and he asked the question on his mind before he realized what he was doing: "I'm sorry, my lord?"

"I want to see what he does," Vader said. His answer did not explain anything, but Piett nodded anyway.

"Yes my lord." He turned to the pit below. "Belay the tractor beam until further orders."

"Yes sir."

Piett turned back to the viewport, watching as the Rebel ships scrambled to form some sort of attack plan. They maneuvered toward the _Black Asp_, ready to start an attack run, before a warning shot rang out from the interdictor's bow. The fighters immediately returned to their previous location in between the two Imperial ships. Piett saw that the larger ship, a freighter, was making a run for it. Piett did not understand why Vader was not ordering their TIEs to pursue, but he had been quite adamant that no TIEs be launched on this mission.

"Lord Vader?" Piett questioned, obviously wondering if the _Executor_ needed to fire its own warning shot.

"Let it go," Vader advised.

Again Piett did not understand, but he did not bother to question this time.

"He's thinking," Vader said, nearly a whisper. Piett almost responded, but something told him that Vader wasn't speaking to him. He stared at the dark figure in confusion for several moments, then an officer called out, breaking their concentration.

"Captain? We're being hailed by one of the Rebel starfighters."

Vader's head immediately snapped up. "Skywalker?"

The communications officer gulped, not expecting to have to report to Vader. "N-no, my Lord. Recognition code is Hapspir, Barrini, Corbolan, Triaxis. Calls herself the Emperor's Hand?"

Piett couldn't see under the helmet, but it was obvious that Vader's face had just spread into a huge grin. "Ah, yes," he rumbled. "The prodigal daughter has returned." He strode quickly to the comm station. "Patch it through, lieutenant. I'm very interested to see what she has to say for herself."

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Luke allowed himself a moment of panic when they were pulled out of hyperspace, then he'd immediately shifted into commander mode, polling his pilots to make sure that everyone was accounted for and no ships had any damage. Mara's voice sounded shaky when she reported in and Luke could sense her anxiety as clear as if she were sitting next to him. He couldn't blame her one bit after what she'd told him about her past life. If the Empire caught her, she'd be subjected to horrible torture and imprisonment for sure.

Well, he wouldn't let that happen. There were ways to disable an interdictor and if anyone could do it, the Rogues could.

Luke glanced around, assessing the battle situation before issuing a plan of attack. For some reason Luke couldn't figure out, no TIEs had been launched. The only thing keeping them from jumping to hyperspace was the interdictor. The _Executor _hadn't even enabled its tractor beam.

Well, that would make escape much easier.

Luke turned his attention back to his comm. Everyone had reported in and was in the green…except for Zurel. Luke suppressed the panic rising up inside him again. "Rogue Twelve, do you copy? Rogue Twelve, do you read me?" Nothing but static. "Artoo, send a message to Twelve's astromech—"

Luke flinched as a new voice came over the comm. "That _sleemo!_" Zev's voice was as harsh as Luke had ever heard it.

"What's the matter, Two?" Luke checked his sensor board and saw exactly what Zev was referring to. His heart nearly fell into his chest as he saw Rogue Twelve flying unchallenged towards the _Executor_.

Dack was next on the comm, his young voice full of panic. "He sold us out! That lying son of a Hutt sold us out!"

"Cut the chatter, Rogues!" Luke hated being harsh when they'd all just been horribly betrayed, but he couldn't let their anger and panic get the best of them now. They had to concentrate if they were going to get out of there.

First things first. He opened up an encrypted channel to the _Falcon. _"Han, get the hell out of here now."

"I'm already running, kid. You sure I can't convince you guys to join us? I think Leia's about to snap my head off."

Sure enough, Luke could hear Leia's protests in the background and he had to smile. "Negative. You go, we'll cover you just in case."

"May the Force be with you, Luke."

He didn't have a chance to respond before the _Falcon_ got out of range of the gravity well and jumped to hyperspace. _Good-bye, Leia._

Since the only thing keeping them in realspace was the interdictor, it needed to be taken out. Luke immediately formulated a plan. "Alright Rogues, listen up. We need to disable the interdictor. Form up by flights and start your attack run on my mark. On my second mark, launch torpedoes toward the bridge. Got it?" He didn't even wait for a response before he banked toward the interdictor. The other Rogues followed him, getting into formation like they were doing another drill. Luke armed his proton torpedoes and took a deep breath—

A warning from the Force sent him barreling to the left, almost clipping Dack's S-foils. "Evasive action!" he shouted. There was chaos for a moment as turbolaser blasts came firing out of the interdictor. Luke checked his instrument panel and saw that everyone had gotten out of range before the ship's lasers blasted them all to pieces.

"What the kriff!" Wedge exclaimed. "What the hell are they playing at?"

"I have no idea," Luke answered.

"Should we try to make a run for it?"

"No; the SSD would blast us if we tried. They want to keep us here, but they don't have TIEs out and the tractor beam isn't on. I don't get it. It's almost like…" Luke couldn't finish his words—it was almost like Vader was testing him. Well, he'd show Vader just what Luke Skywalker was made of.

_Luke._

Luke jumped, looking up above him as if that would somehow allow him to see the voice that had just spoken to him. _Ben? _he gasped, wondering if his old master had once again come to save the day.

But it wasn't Ben. It was Mara.

Luke couldn't sense her exact words, but the meaning was there: _Do you trust me?_

What kind of question was that? Of course he trusted her. He'd told her before. Why was she asking that now?

Her presence again brushed against his, persistent. _I need to know. Do you trust me, Luke?_

He closed his eyes, reaching out out to her in reassurance. _You know I trust you._

He could feel her heavy sigh. _Then please, whatever you hear—know that I never wanted to lie to you…and I'm sorry._

_What! Mara?_

She didn't answer and he began to panic, thinking that she was going to do something rash like sacrifice herself so they could escape. He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice the blinking light on his instrument panel. Finally, Artoo tweeted to get his attention. "What's that, Artoo?"

The droid beeped again. Mara's astromech had sent over an encrypted frequency. Luke keyed it on and heard her voice; he went to speak but Artoo informed him that it was audio only. So he sat back and listened.

She was hailing the _Executor_, using some sort of recognition code, and the officer was letting her through! Could her old contacts get them out of his mess? He was about to praise her for her brilliance—

When a voice he utterly despised came through his headset, filling him with pure rage. "Emperor's Hand. We've been expecting you."

Luke's eyes widened. Vader was talking to _Mara_—he knew her! Was that why she was so concerned to tell him the truth about her place in the Empire? She knew that Vader had killed his father.

Then Vader's words to her registered, and his heart turned to ice...

Emperor's Hand? What the _hell_?

.

.

.

The instant Mara saw the _Executor,_ she knew that she couldn't hide anymore. The Rogues would never get out of there alive, no matter how well they could fly. This was an ambush set up by Vader with insider information. He'd come prepared—interdictor and all—to keep them trapped until he finally had enough of his game and brought them in with the tractor beam. Mara wondered who he was looking for—her, Luke, maybe the both of them. But it didn't matter. This was it. This was the moment she hadn't known she'd been preparing for since she'd joined the Rebellion.

She listened as Luke tried valiantly to give orders to take out the interdictor, but the warning shot had taken them all by surprise. They couldn't get anywhere near the interdictor to try to take it out, and they had no desire to move closer to the _Executor,_ in range of its tractor beams. The _Falcon_, thank the Force, had managed to escape to hyperspace without any pursuit. Mara couldn't fathom what Vader was playing at, but she knew that he had a plan and that it ended with the capture of Luke Skywalker, the pilot he'd been searching for since Luke had slipped through his fingers after the evacuation of Yavin IV.

Well, she wasn't the Emperor's Hand anymore but if one thing was true, it was that Mara Jade always made her own plans.

"Red," she said firmly. "There's a file in your system. It contains a list of Imperial fleet override codes. I need you to establish a connection with the interdictor's computer and upload the third code on the list. Can you do that?" She didn't know if the codes would still work, but it was her only shot. She'd acquired them on one of her missions and had committed them to her impeccable memory. On a whim, she'd uploaded them into her astromech right after joining the Squadron. She had to pray that fleet bureaucracy had kept them from being altered since then.

The astromech blurted proudly, causing Mara to smile as she glanced at her instrument panel. Her droid was happy to accept a challenge. She knew there was a reason she liked him so much.

There was another tweet; the code still worked, but the upload would take four minutes to cycle through. Mara checked her chrono. They'd already been out of hyperspace for two minutes. Vader would be tiring of this game any time now.

Now, it was her turn.

She reached out with the Force and gently brushed against Luke's mind, sending him a question: _Do you trust me?_

She could sense his confusion but he affirmed that he did, of course he did.

Mara had never felt such a dull ache in her heart before, knowing what she was about to do would destroy Luke. But she had no other choice if she wanted Luke to survive, free of Vader's clutches.

"Red, I need you to hail the _Executor_on an encrypted frequency. After you do that, send the frequency to Artoo Detoo, audio only."

Luke deserved to know the truth, and this was the only way she'd be able to tell him. She could only hope that he would understand.

Almost immediately, a clipped, Imperial voice came over her comm. "Rebel X-wing, this is the Imperial flagship _Executor._ Stand down or we will be forced to fire upon you."

Mara suppressed a laugh; these lower-level officers were always so arrogant. "Tell me, officer, to whom am I speaking?" she asked, putting all her old power behind her words.

"Rebel X-wing, I repeat—"

"I heard you the first time. I don't answer questions unless I first know who I am addressing."

There was a pause. "This is Lieutenant Briggs, communications officer on duty. I repeat, stand down or—"

"Thank you, Lieutenant Briggs. You can dispense with your concern. I need to speak with Lord Vader immediately. My recognition code is Hapspir, Barrini, Corbolan, Triaxis."

There was another long pause and Mara could almost hear the young man gulp over the comm. So it seemed that her old code hadn't been eradicated after all…

Finally, the officer came back online. "And your name?"

Mara took a deep breath. "He knows me as the Emperor's Hand."

"…One moment, please."

She leaned back in her seat and sighed. It was done.

Three more minutes for the upload to complete…

"Emperor's Hand. We've been expecting you."

Vader's voice was the only encouragement needed to revert back to her old mindset. It was easy to do so while talking to Vader, the man she despised, the man who'd betrayed her. "Lord Vader. I must say that it is a pleasure to speak with you again."

"Don't try to fool me, girl. I remember Dantooine. You betrayed the Empire."

"I remember that day as well, Lord Vader. If I recall correctly, your troops took unprovoked shots at me, the Emperor's Hand. I don't think that the Emperor would be very pleased to hear about that, do you?"

"And I recall _you_ returning fire and leaving on a Rebel ship. You have been missing in action since that time and are speaking to me from a Rebel X-wing. It is obvious that you have betrayed the Empire. The Emperor will reward me greatly for your return."

"Is that so, Lord Vader? Did the Emperor ever say to you directly that I had left the Empire?"

"He did not need to."

"No, you just assumed because it fit your needs, isn't that correct? Oh Lord Vader, you're getting sloppy in your old age." She had never been so forward with the Dark Lord before, always fearing that it would get her in trouble with Palpatine, but now she didn't care—and she loved it.

"Tread lightly, Emperor's Hand, I will crush you where you stand—"

"No you won't, Lord Vader, and I will tell you why." Pausing for a breath, Mara glanced at her timer. Two more minutes. Quickly she sent instructions to Red to relay her hyperspace calculations to the rest of the Rogues, and for them to prepare to jump to lightspeed. Her comm immediately began blinking, indicating one of the Rogues was trying to open a line, but she ignored it.

She turned her attention back to Vader. "You will work with me because I have what you want—Luke Skywalker."

Vader's hesitation was all the proof she needed that he hadn't yet confided his secret to Palpatine. That would work to her advantage. "What, you think he doesn't know about Skywalker?" she scoffed. "Oh Lord Vader, you are more naive than I thought. Where do you think I've been all this time? I was assigned by the Emperor to infiltrate the Rebels, find Luke Skywalker and gain his trust, then lure him into a trap. How do you think you obtained the information about this mission?"

One more minute...

"The data was obtained from a spy in Rebellion."

"And who do you think planted the idea in his head that defecting from the Empire had been a bad idea after all, and that turning in Rogue Squadron was the perfect way to abscond himself of any punishment?"

"The spy mentioned nothing of working with the Emperor's Hand!"

"Of course he didn't. I wouldn't be so foolish as to blow my cover. I work discretely, you should remember."

"We will see."

"You will, and you will do as I request if you want Skywalker's cooperation." Thirty more seconds. She had to stall... "Keep Skywalker, but let the other Rogues go."

Vader actually laughed at her request. "Now I know that you are lying, you stupid little girl."

"I'm not lying, Lord Vader. Listen to me, Skywalker and I are close, very close. He will be more agreeable to your proposals to join the Empire if you let his friends go. If you kill them all, he will despise you even more."

"And what about you, Emperor's Hand?"

"I stay because Emperor desires it. And because I know Skywalker, and he will most definitely fight against you if any harm comes to me. He trusts me, and he will listen to me."

"Is that how things are between you?"

"As you know, I am very thorough in my work."

"Indeed you are. But you know that I would never agree to let the Rebels go."

Mara sighed. "That's too bad."

The timer hit zero.

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.

Luke listened to the conversation in stunned silence, almost unable to comprehend what he was hearing. Mara—_his_ Mara, the Mara he wanted to be with more than anything, the Mara who'd struggled to fly circles around everyone since she'd become a member of Rogue Squadron, the Mara who'd stolen his heart—knew Darth Vader. She'd worked with him, even though the two seemed to have nothing but a hostile relationship. But most importantly, Vader had called her the Emperor's Hand. She'd referred to _herself _as the Emperor's Hand.

Luke had never heard the term before, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what it meant.

She hadn't been a mere Imperial agent. She'd worked directly for the Emperor.

Luke didn't know what to think. Why hadn't she told him?

His attention was brought back to the conversation. "That's too bad," Mara was saying.

Suddenly Artoo began trilling loudly and Luke glanced at his instrument panel, shocked once again—the interdictor's gravity well was gone!

"Oh my stars," he gasped. His mind automatically snapped into control. There were hyperspace coordinates in his navicomputer, sent from Red. Luke grasped his hyperspace lever. "Rogues, go to hyperspace, now! Jump! Jump!"

They were gone before he could finish his last word.

Everyone except for Mara.

She wasn't going to leave. Luke realized what had just happened—she'd deliberately stalled Vader so he wouldn't enable the tractor beam. In the meantime, she'd somehow disabled the interdictor. Luke checked his sensors again. The gravity wells were still offline; surely the systems were overloaded.

Mara had allowed them to escape and rather than return to the Rebellion and face the people she'd lied to, she was going to stay and face Vader alone.

He was right. She _was_going to sacrifice herself for all of them, after all.

He couldn't let her do that. It was still true—he trusted her. But more than that, he needed to know the truth. She was the only one who could answer his questions. He needed answers, more than anything.

He took his hand off the lever.

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There was chaos on the bridge of the _Executor_ as the _Black Asp_'s gravity wells went offline and the Rebel starfighters jumped to hyperspace. Vader's fists clenched as he watched his son slip away once again…but then he realized that two fighters had stayed behind, his son in one of them, and the Emperor's Hand in the other.

He smiled. Perhaps Jade was right, and the Emperor's Hand would be of more use than he could possibly imagine.

But for now, he had to ensure that Luke did not escape. "What happened to the other ships?" he bellowed.

Piett stood nervously before him but answered as calmly as possible. "They escaped to hyperspace, my Lord. It appears that the _Black Asp_'s gravity wells went offline."

"Why have they not been repaired!"

"I...I'm not certain, my Lord. We are contacting the _Black Asp _to ascertain the situation."

Vader shook his head. He was almost certain what had caused the interdictor to go offline. There was only one person capable of disabling and overloading the system. He would have to speak with the Emperor's Hand about this later. But for now... "Get Ozzel on the comm, and activate the tractor beams!"

"Yes my Lord." Piett turned to the pit below. "Activate the tractor beams."

The young officer nodded. "Tractor beams activated. We've got a lock on the fighters, captain."

Vader again turned to stare out the viewport, watching as his son was brought into his clutches.

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.

.

Mara switched on her comm, opening another connection to Luke, and began yelling profusely. "What the hell are you doing!"

"Staying here with you," he said without hesitation.

"Luke, don't be a fool, you need to go now before the tractor beams bring us in! They'll be activating them right now!"

"I'm not leaving you, Mara."

"This is not the time to be a hero, you need to go!"

"It's not about that at all. It's perfectly selfish—I want answers, and you're the only one who can give them to me. So I'm staying."

Suddenly Red began squealing, and her X-wing lurched. She looked down at her instrument panel, dread settling over her.

The tractor beams had locked onto them. They were trapped again. She slammed her hand against the instrument panel, hot tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. "Do you know what Vader will do to you? This is the stupidest thing you've ever done!"

"Probably. But I was telling the truth—I trust you. Plus, I'm your CO. I can't leave without you."

"Dammit, Luke!" She let out a harsh scream, cursing the reckless man who had stolen her heart. The man who had made her feel more whole than anyone else in her entire life. The man who shone through the Force, and believed in her.

She couldn't let Vader capture him. Vader would destroy him.

She hadn't planned to escape this trap. She had planned to stay and face the consequences of leaving the Empire. Her training had prepared her for anything, even torture from Lord Vader. She'd survive this.

But she couldn't bear the thought of what they'd do to Luke.

There was no other option. She had to escape and face the consequences of her lies in the Rebellion—for Luke. She couldn't live with herself if Luke was captured, killed, or even worse, molded into another Dark Side creation. She couldn't let that happen.

She wouldn't.

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Luke stretched out with the Force, feeling Mara's horror as he insisted on staying with her along with her deep concern with what would happen to him once the Empire captured him. It was all he could sense from her—worry about what Vader would do to him. She did not care at all what would happen to her if she stayed. She was prepared to take the fall.

He was angry at her for lying to him, not to mention deeply hurt. He couldn't understand why she hadn't confessed the entire story. He would have understood. He would have accepted her. He _did _accept her, despite everything that had just been revealed. He still cared for her deeply. He always would.

And she cared for him. He felt it now, more strongly than ever. Perhaps it took facing the Empire head-on for him to finally accept the full extent of her feelings for him. He'd always been self-deprecating, thinking that she could never care for him as much as he cared for her, and brushing off everyone's compliments and praise of his abilities.

But now, staring at the Super Star Destroyer and knowing what waited for him on the other side, he finally felt the true depth of Mara's feelings and could no longer deny that they were meant to be.

Despite everything that was about to happen, he had to smile.

Perhaps she felt it too, because her voice came through again, just as confident as she'd sounded while talking to Vader. "Do you still trust me?"

"You know that I do."

"Do you trust me to leave with you?"

He closed his eyes and heard another voice in his mind—Obi-Wan. His old master told him to trust his feelings, rely on his instincts, and listen to the Force. And the Force was telling him to trust Mara.

It always had.

The tractor beam had them, but the gravity wells were still offline. If they had only had this conversation before the tractor beams could come online...if they could only get out of the tractor beam now...

An idea popped into his head. It was the only way he knew of to get out of a tractor beam. It would be risky but there were no other options, and if he could destroy the Death Star, he could pull this off. "I think I know how to get out of here."

Mara paused for just a moment. "Proton torpedoes?"

"Yes. Can you do it?"

"Just tell me when."

"Get ready to jump." Luke set his coordinates, armed his proton torpedoes, gave Artoo the instructions, and took off toward the _Executor. _Alongside him, Mara did the same.

He didn't look at his instrument panel, nor listen to Artoo's wails telling him that it was time to fire the torpedoes. He only listened to the Force. He could sense it everywhere, inside himself, inside Mara, inside Vader. He felt Mara's reassuring presence brush against him. He stretched out with his feelings, and listened.

The Force answered.

Artoo reverse-triggered the acceleration compensator. At the same moment Luke pressed down on his trigger, sending his two proton torpedoes towards the _Executor_. He yanked on the flightstick and the X-wing flew upward.

For one moment, the tractor beams holding them weakened as they tracked the four torpedoes launching toward the huge Destroyer. It was all that they needed. He yanked his flightstick hard and dove away from the _Executor_, going into evasive maneuvers to keep the tractor beam from grabbing onto him again. His X-wing sped alongside Mara's and his hand settled on the hyperspace lever.

He glanced to his right and their eyes met through the blackness of space. _Go!_he sent to her.

Trusting her to keep her word, he pushed forward on the lever.

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The explosion outside the viewport was temporarily blinding. Piett threw his arm up to block his eyes from the brightness. He heard Vader yell behind him and stiffened, hoping beyond hope that the unthinkable had not just occurred.

But it had. The X-wings jumped to hyperspace, leaving the space around them empty but for the two Imperial ships. Piett stood absolutely still, watching Vader out of the corner of his eye while still trying to maintain control of the bridge. "Lieutenant Briggs, are we online with the _Asp_?" he inquired.

The young officer could barely meet his eye. "Yes, captain."

"Patch it through to my station," Vader ordered, still staring intently out the viewport. Then he turned, his cloak billowing behind him, and strode towards the large viewscreen in the corner of the bridge. Piett followed, partly out of duty and partly out of morbid curiosity.

Ozzel's nervous face appeared before them. He didn't even bother with the regular pleasantries. "Lord Vader, our gravity wells were disabled…our engineers were unable to ascertain and fix the problem—"

"Admiral, you are as clumsy as you are stupid. There is no excuse for not immediately enacting the backup gravity wells."

"My lord, the system was overloaded! There was no way to fix the problem!"

"There is a way to fix every problem, admiral. This is the third time you have cost me my prize. It will not happen again."

"My lord…?"

Suddenly, Ozzel doubled over, clutching his throat and croaking as he opened and closed his mouth, trying and failing to gulp in much-needed air. Piett stared in disbelief as his superior officer choked to death by an invisible hand. He had heard stories of Vader's abilities, but had never seen anything like this before...he was asphyxiating a man across the vastness of space!

And Vader paid the admiral no mind. "Captain Piett?"

Piett stepped forward, still unable to take his eyes off Ozzel, who was still croaking and clutching his throat. "Yes my lord?"

"Contact the rest of the fleet. We will rendezvous at our scheduled location and the _Executor_ will then travel on to Imperial Center."

"We will depart at once, my lord."

On the screen, Ozzel's face turned red and he keeled over, soundless and motionless. Piett had to remind himself to breathe. After a long moment he turned back to Vader, who was watching him intently. "See to it…_Admiral _Piett."

Without another word Vader left the bridge, escaping to the solitude of his chamber. Piett was left alone to clean up the mess and monitor the bridge, the ship, and the fleet.

He glanced back at Ozzel's lifeless body, and took a deep breath.


	20. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

Luke waited until the rest of the Rogues had disembarked from their X-wings before bringing his starfighter into the hangar. He'd had hours to consider what had really happened during their confrontation with the _Executor_, but he still wasn't ready to face the inevitable. He still wasn't ready to face Mara.

But he could no longer delay it.

He forced himself to concentrate on nothing else but the landing procedures as he flew into the graceful Mon Calamari starship. His pilots, including Mara, stood clustered around Wedge's X-wing, waiting for their commanding officer's words of consolation and wisdom. And all Luke wanted to do was run into his quarters and not come out for days.

He was assaulted with a thousand questions as soon as he climbed down the ladder but he ignored them, focusing instead on the white blur hurtling toward him. Leia practically jumped into his arms and squeezed him so tight that Luke had trouble breathing. Despite how troubled he felt, he couldn't help but smile at Leia's enthusiasm.

"Thank the Force you're safe," she murmured against him. "I was so worried!"

"Really? I couldn't tell."

She pulled away to smack him, then clutched him close again. "Stop it, Luke. It was awful not knowing what had happened to you…I had these horrible visions of what Vader would do to you…"

"Shhh," he soothed. "It's fine, Leia. I'm right here." But he hugged her just as tight.

After several long moments, he heard the sound of a throat clearing behind Leia. Han stood there uncomfortably. "Leia, the meeting's about to start."

"Thank you," she replied. "Luke, they want you to come to the Command briefing. I tried to get you out of it, but they insisted."

"It's okay, I figured they'd want to speak to me right away. Go ahead, I'll be right there, I just want to say something to them first." He gestured toward the Rogues watching them, and purposefully avoided looking at Mara.

"Of course." Leia stretched up on her toes to kiss his cheek, then walked out of the hangar alongside Han.

Luke took a deep breath and faced his pilots. His XO was the first to speak. "What happened out there, boss?"

"I have no idea," he lied. "Somehow the gravity well went offline. Perhaps the interdictor had a malfunction."

"It doesn't make sense; why didn't they just bring us in with their tractor beams right away?" Hobbie asked.

Luke shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"Well, I'm not complaining. That's the luckiest break I've ever gotten," Dack said.

"Why were you and Mara behind us?" Tycho asked.

Luke shifted awkwardly, still refusing to look at Mara even though he felt her emotions so clearly. "I stayed back to make sure everyone jumped safely. Mara's X-wing experienced a temporary malfunction. Thankfully it was fixed rather quickly and we were able to jump before the tractor beams went online."

"The Force really must've been with us," Zev said.

"Yeah," Luke murmured. "Anyway, I have to go to a Command briefing. I am hereby ordering you all to partake in some downtime. I'll schedule a briefing for later on tomorrow."

With the exception of Mara, the Rogues shuffled out of the hangar. She waited until everyone had left, then grabbed Luke's arm. Finally, he forced himself to meet her gaze.

She looked miserable. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I have no idea what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. I understand."

"But Luke…I should have told you everything…I was going to, I swear—"

"When were you going to tell me, Mara? Before or after I'd completely fallen for you?"

She stepped back, a deeply hurt look on her face. "That's not fair."

"No, it's not. But it's the truth, isn't it?"

"Luke, I—"

"Mara, I can't deal with this right now. I have to go talk to Command."

"I know, I just wanted to say that I'm _so _sorry—"

"I heard you the first time." Mara nodded, looking so small and pitiful, and so unlike the woman he'd heard face off against Darth Vader. Luke sighed. "Look Mara, I can't do this right now. Go hang out with the other Rogues. I'll find you when I'm ready to talk."

"Okay." She opened her mouth to say something else, then closed it, as if rethinking what she was going to say. Luke sighed again, realizing what she wanted to ask.

"Don't worry. I won't tell them what really happened. Your secret is safe with me."

She looked relieved. "Thank you. I don't deserve it." She leaned forward as if to kiss him but Luke turned away, unable to let her get so close. He walked away without saying another word.

He had never felt so horrible in his entire life.

.

Mara stood in silence as Luke left the hangar. He had every right to feel the way he did, but it still hurt. She hadn't realized the extent of her feelings for Luke until she was about to lose him forever.

For the hundredth time since joining the Alliance, Mara cursed her old master. Even half a year removed from being the Emperor's Hand, Palpatine was still ruining her life.

But she couldn't blame him for everything. She had been dishonest. She had deceived Luke, Tycho, Leia, everyone else who gave her their trust. Even after confessing to Luke that she hadn't been a mere TIE fighter pilot, she still couldn't reveal the final piece of information, all because she'd been so scared of losing him before he was even hers.

There was nothing she could do to fix this. She could only wait, and hope that Luke could find it in his heart to forgive her.

But even if he could, Mara knew that nothing would ever be the same.

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"Commander Skywalker, it's a pleasure to see you alive," Mon Mothma opened the briefing.

Luke nodded at his commander in chief. "Thank you, ma'am. I'm very glad to be here as well."

"I apologize for having to pull you in for a briefing so soon, but it is imperative given the situation," General Cracken said.

"I understand." Luke certainly understood, of course, but that didn't make the situation any easier. He had to lie to Alliance Command, for a woman who had deceived them all.

For not the first time since Luke had joined the Alliance, he wished that Ben was there. Somehow Luke sensed everything that Mara felt—her deep and profound regret for having hidden the truth, and her immense fear that Luke, along with the rest of the Alliance, would now reject her. Despite everything Luke still cared for her deeply, and that was what hurt so much. His brain was telling him to forget about her, that she was a liar and if she had lied about her past, she could have lied about anything since she'd joined the Alliance. She could have been telling the truth to Vader. She could have decided to go back to the Alliance with Luke to further spy on them.

But his heart told him to listen to the Force, and the Force still told him to trust Mara, that he was meant to be with her. He was so confused.

"Can you tell us what happened, Commander Skywalker?" General Bryl asked.

Luke nodded at his direct superior. "The flight to Drunost went off without a hitch until we were approximately two hours from our destination. We abruptly dropped out of hyperspace and found ourselves confronted with an interdictor cruiser and the Super Star Destroyer _Executor."_

A murmur made its way across the briefing room. Mon Mothma and General Rieekan shared concerned looks.

"For some reason, no TIEs had been launched and the ships allowed _Millennium Falcon_ to escape the gravity well and jump to hyperspace," Luke continued. "My conclusion was that the _Executor_ was only after Rogue Squadron. I formulated a plan to take out the interdictor, but before we could get close to launch our torpedoes, the turbolasers fired on us. We were trapped between the _Executor _and the interdictor with nowhere to go. We assumed that their plan was to bring us in by tractor beam, but for some reason they didn't activate right away."

"How in the galaxy did you get out of that mess, son?" General Madine asked.

Luke glanced away from the former Imperial officer. It was too painful to look at the man, with the thoughts of Mara's deception so foremost in his mind. "The Force was with us. The gravity wells inexplicably went offline. We jumped to hyperspace without a second thought."

"Lieutenant Antilles stated that you and Lieutenant Jade did not arrive at the rendezvous point right away."

"That's correct. I waited until all the Rogues had jumped to hyperspace. Lieutenant Jade's X-wing experienced a technical problem, but thankfully the hyperdrive came back online right away."

"We'll need to examine her starfighter, to determine if there is a problem," General Bryl insisted.

Luke forced himself not to swallow uncomfortably. "Yes, sir. Of course." He glanced to his right. Leia was watching him with a curious look. He looked away, uncomfortable under her scrutiny.

"We will also need to examine your flight recorders," General Cracken said.

"Of course, sir."

This was bad. This was very bad. If Starfighter Command examined their X-wings and Intelligence analyzed their flight recorders, the truth would be exposed. Mara needed to confess to Cracken before that could happen.

Before he could leave to warn Mara, Mon Mothma began speaking again, her usually soft voice tinged with bitterness. "We heard there was a spy among your ranks, Commander Skywalker."

The pain evident on Luke's face was completely genuine. "Yes, ma'am. We believe that Lieutenant Darillian was passing information to the Empire. He flew unchallenged into the _Executor _upon our arrival."

The entire table looked crestfallen, especially General Madine. "I'm sorry, commander," he said. "Being sold out by one of your own men…I know how that feels."

"Thank you, sir. I'm more worried about my pilots right now. If you don't mind, I'd like to get back to them as soon as possible."

"Of course, commander," Mon Mothma said. "But we have one more item to discuss, if you don't mind."

Luke nodded.

"Because of Lieutenant Darillian's deception, Echo Base's location has been compromised. I'm sorry, General Muvunc, General Rieekan—but we will have to find a new location."

The Ordnance and Supply director nodded sadly. "It's a pity. We've done a lot of good work on that base."

"Yes, we have," Rieekan agreed. "I propose we break up Command for the time being, and take leave at some of the smaller bases until we can find a new location."

"I agree, general," Mon Mothma said. "All those in favor?" Everyone around the table raised their hands. "It's settled then."

Luke raised his hand. "Chief Mothma, the Rogues are more than willing to begin the search for another base as soon as possible."

"Thank you commander."

"I just have one question for Commander Skywalker, Chief Mothma," Leia said. Her voice was soft, causing everyone in the room to sit still so they could hear her properly.

"Of course, Councilor Organa."

Leia looked Luke straight in the eye. "Were you able to sense anything regarding Lieutenant Darillian's deception?"

Luke held her gaze for only a moment, before looking down at the table and playing with his datapad. He couldn't understand why Leia was asking him such a thing, and in front of the entire Alliance Command staff. Luke had wondered several times on the trip through hyperspace why he hadn't been able to sense Darillian's betrayal. He was usually such a good judge of character. It bothered him profusely that his lack of training in the Force could have led to a disaster.

The room was silent, waiting for his answer. "Unfortunately, I did not," he said quietly. "I don't know why I couldn't sense his treachery."

"I see." Leia's face was set in stone as she turned back to Chief Mothma. "That is all, ma'am."

The meeting was dismissed and Luke hurried out of the room before anyone else could ask him any more questions. He rushed through the corridors to Mara's room, so concerned with fixing Mara's problem that he no longer considered Leia's question.

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Leia remained behind in the briefing room, watching as Luke hurried off, most likely to go find Mara. She felt the pang of an unfamiliar emotion as she thought of the redheaded woman. Just hours ago Leia had insisted that Luke should be with her, that Luke could possibly even love her. Now, after witnessing Luke lie through his teeth to the leaders of the Rebel Alliance, she couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled over her.

Somehow, Leia _knew _that Luke was lying about what had happened on the mission. Something had happened between Luke and Mara, and for some reason he was covering it up.

Had Mara been the reason behind the ambush? Had Leia's bad feelings from way back on Dantooine been correct after all? If Mara was a spy, how could she have fooled Luke? He was strong in the Force.

But Luke had said that he hadn't been able to sense Zurel's betrayal. Zurel had fooled them all. Perhaps Luke wasn't as strong as Leia thought.

After several minutes Han walked past the briefing room. He immediately backpedaled and stuck his head in the room. Seeing that Leia was alone, he stepped in and took the seat next to her. "Hey, what's going on?"

She shook her head, not looking at him. Their almost-kiss and then near-capture by the _Executor_ had shaken her to the core, and during the entire flight back to _Home One_ she'd stayed locked in her quarters, unable to face him. Leia had sworn to herself after Alderaan was destroyed that she would dedicate her life to defeating the Empire. She couldn't let herself be distracted by something as foolish as romance. She _wouldn't_let herself be distracted. This war was too important to let personal feelings get in the way.

But Han, as ever, was persistent. He placed a warm finger on her chin and turned her face. "What's going on, Leia?"

Leia sighed. Han wouldn't leave until she'd told him something. And perhaps Han would believe her... "I think Luke lied to Command."

Han's eyes widened in shock. _"What?"_

Okay, perhaps he wouldn't believe her. But Leia knew that she was right. "The story he told Command, it just doesn't make sense. He said the gravity wells just inexplicably went offline. Imperial ships don't have random malfunctions, Han. And why weren't the tractor beams online to bring us all in? Why did they let us go? Nothing about the mission makes sense, Han. And not to mention, Luke wouldn't look at me the entire time he was talking. That's not like him at all."

"Why would Luke lie? That doesn't make sense."

"I don't know, Han! I just can't stop thinking about Dantooine, and what I thought back then…"

"You mean about Mara being a spy?"

Even though it was exactly what Leia felt, she still felt horrible saying it. After all, she had no proof, just a gut feeling. "Yes."

"Didn't Luke vouch for her? Say she was telling the truth?"

"He did. I watched their conversation! He was absolutely convinced of her integrity."

"And now you think he's lying about her?"

"I can't explain it, Han. I just saw the way he looked at her in the hangar, and then he _felt _wrong during the briefing. I've never felt that way about him before."

Han shook his head incredulously. "I don't believe this, Leia. You're the most logical person in the galaxy, but when it comes to Luke you just can't stop listening to your 'feelings'."

"I _know_it doesn't make sense—"

"And it's not just now, Leia. Back on the _Falcon_ you said that the reason you never went out with Luke was because it 'felt' wrong. And back after Dantooine you said you had a 'bad feeling' about Mara. Now you've got another bad feeling about the girl, and think Luke lied about her. If I didn't know better, I'd say that you have a crush on Luke and are jealous of Mara."

"People rely on their feelings all the time!"

"Yeah Leia, but that's the thing. _You _don't. The only time you focus on your feelings is when it has to do with Luke."

"That's not true at all!"

"Really, Leia? Then why don't you tell me _one_time you've allowed your 'feelings' to dictate your actions when you're around me?"

Leia's mouth opened, then closed, as she struggled for a retort to his ridiculous claim. But nothing would come. She blinked rapidly, angry beyond belief that Han would throw this in her face right now. "That's not fair."

"To you, or to me, Leia?"

"You're the one who won't stay!"

"I've been staying!" He jumped up from his chair, pacing back and forth while running a hand through his hair. "I've stayed for over a year! Why isn't that good enough for you?"

"You are _way_ out of line."

"Oh really? I think _you're_ the one out of line, accusing your best friend of lying to Alliance Command. You really think that Luke would endanger the Alliance for a girl? This is _Luke_ we're talking about, for gods' sake!"

Leia shot up from her chair and pointed right in Han's face. "You think this is easy for me? It's not, but I know what I feel, Han! I can't deny it!"

Han nodded sadly. He took her hand in his, caressing it gently. "Unfortunately, Leia, I know exactly what you mean."

He didn't give her a chance to respond before turning around and walking away.

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Mara felt a surge of hope when there was a knock on her door and she felt Luke standing on the other side, but her hope quickly vanished once she sensed his apprehension. Taking a deep breath, she rose from the bed and palmed open the door. He stood in the doorway, glancing around her spartan quarters, but refusing to enter.

She met his gaze, trying to find some comfort in his eyes. There was none. "By the look on your face, I take it you're not here to kiss and make up," Mara said, trying to lighten the mood.

It didn't work. "You need to tell Cracken everything," Luke said. "Intel is going to examine our flight recorders. If he finds out that you lied, you're out of the Squadron—probably the Alliance."

Her eyes closed. Somehow she'd known that she was going to have to confess her deception. It was necessary regardless of what Intel was doing. Being dishonest had gotten her into this mess. Telling the truth was the only option now.

Besides, she had once planned to leave the Rebellion. If Cracken kicked her out, she could always do as she'd once planned and fight the good fight on her own.

Without Luke.

With a heavy sigh, she opened her eyes. "I know. I'll go talk to him right now." She stepped into the hallway and palmed the door closed.

"Wait." Luke's voice stopped her cold. He reached out to touch her arm, then thought better of it and pulled away. "I'll come with you."

She glanced at him as they walked down the hallway toward the lift. "Why?"

His eyes remained straight ahead, but the compassion was there again. "I told you, Mara. I don't abandon my subordinates. Or my friends."

She glanced away, blinking back sudden tears.


	21. Chapter 20

**And here we are, folks. The last chapter of **_**Alliance of Heroes**_**. I hope you enjoy.**

**The first chapter of Part 2 - **_**Night Must Fall**_** - will be posted on July 26. Chapters will be posted every Tuesday.**

**Thank you to everyone who read this story. I especially appreciate everyone who has taken the time to review. I hope you enjoy Part 2. **

**And now, on with the show.**

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CHAPTER 20

It wasn't as difficult as she'd expected to tell the story of her former life.

Mara arrived at Cracken's office with Luke in tow and informed the general that she had important matters to discuss. He was in a meeting with General Madine but Mara asked the other general to stay. If she was going to confess, she was going to do so correctly. Madine was a former Imperial and had worked with her when she was the Emperor's Hand. He deserved to know the truth as well.

She told them everything, starting at the very beginning—how the Emperor stole her from her family when she was a young girl, how he trained her to do his every bidding without question, the skills she learned from the Royal Guard and Intelligence, the misgivings she'd developed after Alderaan, the Emperor's assignment designed to test her allegiance, her decision to leave the Empire, and her ultimate decision to stay with the Rebellion. Not a stone was left unturned. Luke sat silently the entire time, even as the generals interjected to ask questions or for clarifications.

In the end it was freeing, finally being completely honest about who she was. She'd never done so before. Perhaps now, she was one step closer to finding out who the true Mara Jade really was.

There were no outbursts, no accusations of deception or treachery. Cracken and Madine listened to her story as they would any other report. They didn't even flinch when she told them about the more delicate aspects of her time as the Emperor's Hand.

Luke, for his part, was muted in the Force. But every so often, when her voice wavered just slightly, she felt his presence reach out to hers—the mental equivalent of squeezing her hand.

The confession lasted several hours and Mara was exhausted when she finally got back to her quarters. Cracken had asked her to stay confined there for the rest of the evening, but that he'd like to speak with her again the following morning. She could sense that he was cautiously optimistic about her past as the Emperor's Hand. She couldn't really blame him, considering all the information she'd be able to provide. That night Mara had fallen asleep quickly, a small sense of hope growing inside her that maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all.

But when she'd woken up, just minutes ago, her world had once again been shattered.

She stared at her datapad for a long time. She had only one new message, from Intelligence, counter-signed by Mon Mothma.

Her new orders.

She'd been transferred to Intelligence.

The officer who initiated the transfer was Luke Skywalker.

She didn't bother to read the rest. She just stared blankly at the datapad, a familiar feeling of dread settling over her shoulders. So this was it. Luke had decided he couldn't deal with her dishonesty, so he'd requested that she be moved to another branch of the Alliance.

She couldn't really blame him.

But it still hurt.

What did she do now? Did she stay? She wanted to Alliance to win this war. She fit in with the Rebels more than she ever did in the Empire. She wanted to defeat Palpatine. She wanted him to die.

But she'd never considered being anything other than a Rogue. She'd grown to love flying her starfighter, more than she ever thought possible, and the thought of not getting to do so anymore filled her with unease. Not only that, but she'd become friends with her astromech. At one time, her only friend in the galaxy had been a protocol droid. Now her only friend was an R5 droid, and he was being taken away as well.

She wanted to cry, to scream, to do _anything_, but instead she remained silent, unable to gather the strength.

There was a knock at the door. She looked up, sensing who it was. She was surprised that he'd come to talk, but she shouldn't have been. He was the type of person who would want to end things in person. Not that there was anything to end.

"Come in."

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Luke steeled himself before opening the door and stepping inside. Mara was sitting on her bunk, still in her sleep clothes, staring at the datapad in her hands. Even with mussed hair, she still looked incredibly beautiful.

She didn't acknowledge him. He stared at her for a moment, then took a seat on her empty chair. "I see you got your new orders."

The look in her eyes was the only confirmation she needed. After a long moment, she asked, "Why?"

"There are many reasons."

"But…I thought we'd be able to work through this…I thought you felt the same things I did…" Her voice cracked as she spoke.

He narrowed his eyes, not understanding why she was so upset. Of _course _he wanted to work through this—that was why he'd requested the transfer in the first place. Did she not get that?

She continued ranting and raving and it all fell into place. Luke suppressed a grin. "Mara, did you read the entire document?"

She shrugged. "I didn't need to. I got the gist—I'm now in Intelligence, and it was by _your_ request. You obviously can't stand to be around me so you asked that I leave."

"Actually, Mara, it's exactly the opposite."

"What are you talking about?" she snapped.

He held her gaze for a long moment, before bringing his chair even closer to her, so that their knees grazed against each other. "Read it."

"But—"

"Just humor me."

She did. Luke watched in amusement as her eyes widened in both confusion and surprise. When she got to the end she looked up, an unreadable expression on her face.

"I'm in Intelligence, but I'm still with the Rogues?"

"Yes."

"I don't get it. If you wanted me to stay in the squadron, why move me to Intelligence?"

That old recklessness that Han assured would get him killed one day came bubbling to the surface. "Did you forget the rule about fraternization that quickly, Mara?"

Now her eyes widened with realization. "You…"

Luke nodded. Hoping she wouldn't snap his head off, he slowly took her hand in his. "It was Wedge's idea, actually. I mentioned your comment from long ago about being good in intelligence. He thought, we're already great pilots—why don't we learn new skills and become a better-rounded group? Wes is a sharpshooter and Zev went through some slicing training. Your experience as an Imperial agent made your specialty in intelligence-gathering a no-brainer. And Wedge thought that if we could arrange it so you were officially transferred to Intelligence, that it would help us get around that rule."

"Why would he care so much?"

"They all care, Mara, because they're my friends. They're _our_ friends."

She glanced down at her feet. Luke could sense that, despite half a year in the Alliance, she still wasn't used to having a support system like Rogue Squadron. She still expected to live life on her own.

He hoped he could help her change that.

Taking a deep breath, he forced her chin up. "My plan ended up working better than we'd hoped. After the meeting yesterday Cracken said there was no way in hell that you wouldn't be working for Intelligence. I agreed, but insisted that you stay with the Rogues on a part-time basis. I said you were too good of a pilot and I couldn't imagine someone else flying as Rogue Ten."

"And Cracken agreed? Why?"

"To have the former Emperor's Hand working for him? He was so excited that he practically skipped around his office. You think he was happy when Madine came over? It's like that, times a thousand."

"But…but I lied. How could they trust me?"

"They're not ignoring that, Mara. Cracken does want to speak with you about some sort of official reprimand, and I doubt it'll be awhile before they send you on any missions. But they feel the same way I do—that you defected to the Alliance on Dantooine. Since then you have done nothing to endanger the Alliance. You're one of us now, whether you like or not."

She smiled, just a little bit. "Is that so?"

"Yes."

Now Mara reached out to take Luke's other hand in hers. "So...this was all your devious plot, to get around that rule?"

"Well, it was Wedge's idea. But yeah. This was all for my personal gain. I hope you're not mad."

Mara threw back her head and laughed. "Only you, Farmboy. Only you."

Luke grinned at her nickname for him. He ran his thumb over her hand, turning serious. He had spent most of the previous night thinking about what he would do about Mara. Even though he knew he should feel betrayed, he didn't. No matter what, he knew that this couldn't be the end, because whatever was going on between them had only just begun. "It's obvious that we don't really know each other as well as I thought we did. But that's okay. We can get to know each other, for real, now." He paused for a moment. "I want to get to know you, Mara. I want to know everything about you."

"You do?"

"I do." He took another deep breath. "I want to date you, Mara, like a normal person—well, as normal as it can be in the Alliance. I...I want to take things slow. I want to do this right. What I feel for you is so strong…I know I'm meant to be with you…I don't want to make any more mistakes. I just hope you agree."

Her voice was small and hopeful. "You know that I do."

"Well, then." Luke stood up. "Can I invite you to have breakfast with me, and to join me in the pilot's lounge later tonight? I hear Wes is organizing a sabacc tournament."

Mara smiled. "I'd like that. But…" She glanced down for a moment. "You _really _want to date me, knowing all that you do about me?"

Luke nodded. "Especially now." He stepped closer and pulled her up from the bunk. "Now…why don't you get dressed? I'll wait outside."

"Okay." This time, he didn't turn away when she leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

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Mara watched as Luke left her room, still somewhat in shock. He still wanted to be with her. More than that, he wanted to date her, and _really_ get to know her. No man had ever wanted to date her before. She almost didn't know how to feel.

There was only one way she could feel—happy.

So Mara smiled as she got dressed, and she didn't care one bit that it took her ten minutes longer than usual.

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Luke smiled as he watched Mara fleece the other pilots out of yet even more credits. They'd definitely gotten in over their heads when they'd invited her into the sabacc game, but they were much to proud to stop the game now. They all wanted to win back their credits. Luke knew they'd probably be leaving the game completely broke.

The day had practically flown by. Breakfast was much more enjoyable than usual, thanks to Mara's company, even though they'd been interrupted several times by Rogues cracking jokes. Luke didn't care, though. Let them make their funny comments. He was sitting with the most beautiful girl in the Alliance.

After breakfast Mara went to speak with Cracken, then he briefed his pilots on the Drunost mission. He told them the entire story, with the exception of Mara once being the Emperor's Hand. Cracken had been the one to ask her to keep quiet about her former occupation, thinking that such a secret would be advantageous in the long run. So instead they maintained that Mara was a high-ranking Imperial agent who'd worked closely with Palpatine and Vader.

The Rogues were shocked at first, but then they crowded around Mara, offering words of support and encouragement. Even Tycho, the person Mara was most concerned about discovering the truth, did not seem upset by Mara's lies. After all, she had saved all of their lives the previous day. It was obvious that her defection from the Empire had been genuine.

The afternoon had been filled with gym time and sim runs and dinner and finally, another night in the pilots' lounge. Luke wasn't playing sabacc—despite having the Force, he was horrible at the game—but he was content to merely watch his new girlfriend kick the other pilots' asses.

_Girlfriend. _Luke let the word play on his lips for a few moments. He liked the way it sounded.

Mara glanced at him and handed him a stack of chips. "Go get me some ale, please. All this winning is making me thirsty."

He smiled and rose from his chair behind Mara. "Sure thing."

He only got a few meters before he heard Wes's whispered comment: "They're together less than one day and he's already running errands for her—ow!"

"Thanks, Wedge," Luke called over his shoulder. His XO raised a glass in his direction.

Luke went to the bar and got two glasses of ale. He didn't need a refill but picked one up anyway, thinking that one of the other Rogues (or Mara) would drink it for him.

"Hi, Luke."

Luke started at the feminine voice next to him. "Leia! What are you doing here?"

She shrugged. "Oh, you know, just thought I'd stop by."

"Please, you never come to the lounge, even though I've invited you about a thousand times. What's the matter?"

Leia glanced over at the sabacc table, then back to Luke. "Can we talk privately?"

Something in her expression gave Luke pause. "Sure. Hold on, let me bring these to Mara."

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Leia watched as Luke returned to the sabacc table, deposited the glasses of ale, and gave Mara a kiss on the cheek to the catcalls of the other Rogues. Despite her misgivings, Leia smiled. Luke was like her brother, and she was glad to see him so happy.

Which was why she felt so awful about the way she'd acted.

They took seats at the bar. "So?" Luke asked.

Leia took a deep breath. "I need to apologize for something."

"For what?"

"Well first, for the way I acted in the Command briefing. It was completely wrong of me to call you out in front of everyone."

Luke waved his hand. "It was a fair question. I've been asking it myself. I guess I'm just not that good with the Force yet."

"But you are," Leia insisted. "You knew about Mara's trustworthiness from the beginning, and I…I doubted you."

"Well, you were right. I _was _lying about her."

"Yes, but that's not the point. Your intentions were always good. I doubted you, and for that I deeply apologize. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Leia," Luke chuckled, pulling her to him. "Don't get so upset. It's nothing."

"But it's not. Just…let me say I'm sorry."

"Okay then." Luke nodded. "I accept your apology."

"Thank you." After a few moments Leia pulled away. "You better get back to your girlfriend before she gets jealous."

"Oh, less than a day and you're already teasing me?"

"You got a problem with that?"

Luke glanced back at Mara. At the same instant she met his gaze, then grinned wickedly and pointed to a new stack of sabacc chips.

Luke returned the smile. "Nope. No problem at all."

"It's nice seeing you so happy."

"Yeah." Luke placed his hand on Leia's knee. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

Luke raised an eyebrow.

"I'm fine, Luke."

"You sure?"

"I'm fine. Now shoo, go back to your girlfriend."

"Okay, Leia." He gave her another hug. "But you know I'm always here for you, right?"

Leia met his gaze and nodded.

She watched him return to the sabacc table. He took a seat next to Mara and, after a few moments, self-consciously placed an arm around her shoulder. Mara hesitated for a second, then relaxed and settled in to the crook of his arm.

Blinking away sudden tears, Leia rushed out of the lounge, retreating to the safety and solitude of her quarters.

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Several hours later, after Mara had fleeced the Rogues out of every last credit in their possession, she and Luke retreated to a corner of the lounge. They talked quietly for a long time. Mara told Luke about some of the missions she'd embarked on in the Empire's service. Luke told Mara all about the finer workings of moisture vaporators. He had an awed expression the entire time she talked, describing all the intricacies of Palpatine's court. But as far as Mara was concerned, Luke had the much more impressive childhood. His was normal. He got to be a kid.

Mara never had a childhood.

Perhaps that was why she now wanted to make up for lost time. She was glad that Luke wanted to take things slow. She'd never had a proper boyfriend and had no idea how she should act or what she should do or say, but that didn't matter. Something told her that Luke—and she—would be happy no matter what.

And so it was that they sat talking until the late hours of the evening, content to merely talk about everything and nothing at all.

Finally the chrono struck midnight and Luke said they better get some sleep. Mara considered making a snarky comment about Luke accompanying her to bed but thought better of it. She wanted to do this right, too. There'd be time for those things later.

She hoped.

Like a true gentleman, Luke escorted her to her quarters. She'd be moving soon; after her transfer to Intelligence she'd been assigned new quarters with Winter Retrac. It would be nice to have a roommate, and Winter was a genuinely nice person. Perhaps having a roommate would bring Mara one step closer to having a normal life.

The new couple stood awkwardly outside her door for several moments, holding hands. Luke's thumbs felt warm as they caressed her skin.

"Well," Mara said.

"Well," Luke echoed, stepping a bit closer. "I had a really good time tonight."

"Me too. My pockets are weighed down from all the credits I won." She grinned, patting down her coveralls.

Luke laughed. "Better hide those. Can I meet you for breakfast tomorrow?"

"I have a meeting with Cracken at 0900."

"I'll meet you here at 0800, then?"

Mara smiled. "That would be nice."

"Okay, well…good night then…"

"Good night…"

They moved toward each other until their bodies were almost flush together. Mara gazed up into Luke's eyes and, for the first time, she allowed herself to get lost in them. She bit her lip as Luke brought his hand to her cheek…

And then he kissed her.

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The Emperor's Throne Room was as oppressive as ever. Vader hadn't desired to come here again, but he had no choice when summoned by his master.

Over the past several months, Vader had kept many things from the Emperor. He sometimes wondered if Palpatine was playing him, and actually knew all of Vader's secrets. It wouldn't surprise him. But Vader could only continue with the lies that started the day he discovered that his son was alive and serving in the Rebellion.

He strode forth into the room and fell on bended knee. "What is thy bidding, my master?"

The Emperor gestured for him to rise. "The Rebels escaped you once again."

Vader bowed his head, unable to deny the accusation. "Yes, master."

"My Hand was with them."

"She was."

"Ahh, my child," Palpatine hissed, narrowing his eyes. Vader could feel him stretching out with the Force. After several moments, he looked back to Vader. "She has betrayed us."

"It is so. She claimed to still be serving you."

Palpatine sighed wearily, considering how to deal with his Hand's treachery. Vader almost shuddered, thinking about what would happen to the girl when she was finally caught. "I will take care of her. But right now it is of no importance. We have larger problems to discuss, Lord Vader."

"Master?"

Palpatine reclined ominously in his throne. "There is a great disturbance in the Force."

Vader's regulated breath almost caught in his throat. The moment he'd feared for so long had arrived. The only thing he could do now was continue to lie. "I have felt it."

"We have a new enemy. The young Rebel who destroyed the Death Star."

"You have determined his identity?"

His master nodded. "I have no doubt this boy is the offspring of Anakin Skywalker."

For once in his life, Vader was grateful for the helmet that separated him from the rest of the universe. He said the first thing that came to mind. "How is that possible?"

Palpatine steepled his fingers. "Search your feelings, Lord Vader. You will know it to be true. He could destroy us."

"He's just a boy. Obi-Wan can no longer help him."

"The Force is strong with him. The Son of Skywalker must _not_ become a Jedi."

And there it was—the threat to kill the boy. Vader couldn't let that happen. Luke could accomplish all that Anakin had lost…

Vader was not lying when he proposed his next thought: "If he could be turned, he could become a powerful ally."

"Yes," Palpatine agreed, his yellow eyes twinkling with possibilities. "He would be a great…asset. Can it be done?"

"He will join us or die, master."

"Good. And Lord Vader? When you find the boy…you will bring my Hand back to me."

Vader stared straight ahead. It appeared that Palpatine also suspected the nature of the relationship between his precious Hand and Anakin's son.

Vader smiled to himself as memories from the past assaulted him; oh yes, Jade would be much more useful than he could have ever dreamed. He bowed his head reverently. "She will be yours once again, master."

Palpatine smiled, his decomposed teeth glinting in the sunlight streaming through the tall windows. "I have foreseen it. The Son of Skywalker and my Hand…

"Our enemies will quiver in their wake."

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**End of Part 1 – _Alliance of Heroes_**

**The Trilogy will continue with Part 2 – _Night Must Fall_**


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